


Replication

by Assassin_J



Series: protoparents' creed [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed, [PROTOTYPE]
Genre: AC Kinkmeme, Alex Being Creepy, Alex mostly bottoms, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Awkwardness, Because They Just Couldn't Handle This Shit, Bechdel Test Pass, Condom, Consentacles, Cracky at times, Deleted from FanFiction.Net, Desmond mostly tops, Desmond's mom is casually Hispanic, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, First Time, Flashbacks, From Sex to Love, Gay Male Character, Heartbeat Fixation, I've never written an M/M sex before, Lucy's alive too, M/M, MPREG SEX, Mild Prototype Spoilers, Mpreg, No Romance, Novice Assassin!Alex Mercer, Prompt fic for an extremely old prompt, ProtoCreed, Repeated use of the word "bae", Tentacle Ass, The Unplanned-est Pregnancy Ever, Weird Biology, a self-lubricating anus, also Clay is alive, and now I have, but they switch it up sometimes, close-to-canon-au, fuckbuddies to fluffbuddies, he has an unusual anus, interspecies relationship weirdness, look alright some romance eventually, not the losing virginity first time but their first time together, or tendrils or w/e you call alex's things, past claysmond, slash in both senses of the word, so many music references, some little bits of angst, spongebob timecards, the gay sense and the cutting sense, with tentacles inside, yay for me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-17 15:08:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 72,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3533999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assassin_J/pseuds/Assassin_J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desmond and Alex had sex a few times, just for kicks, nothing serious. They had no idea Alex could get pregnant.</p><p><a href="http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/856.html?thread=5902680#cmt5902680">Prompt:</a> <em>"Protocreed MPreg. So, yeah. Alex/Des, but Alex is the one that gets knocked up because the virus is like 'oh, hey, sperm, I should take advantage of this and make more carriers'.</em></p><p>
  <em>Also, no sappy shit. Alex is pissed that he's knocked up and hates Des for it and refuses to lie down and rest and he can get away with it. Alex having to consume lots and lots of people because the spawn is sapping his strength would be cool."</em>
</p><p>Doesn't quite exaaactly follow the prompt, as there is a little sappiness/romance developing later. But I'm doing my best to keep the schmaltz below critical mass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's a concept you could conceive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somebody help, I've fallen into protocreed and I can't get out

_**"Ragland!"** _

Dr. Ragland let out a "Gah!" as the behooded beast burst into his lab yelling his name. "Oh, geez. It's just you again." He collapsed into a chair. "Scared me half to death."

Desmond and Dana followed Alex in. "Dude, you gotta work on just entering a room like a normal person," Desmond said, then addressed the doctor. "So, uh, sorry to bother ya, but Alex thinks he's sick or something. With, y'know, something besides the usual," he added with a grin.

Alex ignored the witticism and stalked toward the doctor. "There's somethin' inside me. It doesn't feel right," he growled. (Actually, he growled everything he said, unless otherwise specified.)

Still rubbing his chest where his heart had nearly exploded from shock, Dr. Ragland managed to say, "I'll run a scan."

* * *

 

Desmond wasn't a doctor by any stretch of the imagination, but he wasn't stupid. He knew the basic layout of human internal organs, bones, and whatnot. And the stuff he was looking at now was definitely not it. "Damn, Alex. Your insides are freaky."

"I'm a freak, Desmond, what did you expect?" Alex spat. "Come on, Ragland. What's wrong with me?"

"I... I'm not sure." The doctor's eyes searched over the images on the monitor, positively baffled by the confusing jumble of shapes. "There's a lot here that would be considered 'wrong' if you were human. But as far as I know, this could be a perfectly normal MRI for you." He swiveled his chair to face him. "What kind of symptoms are you having?"

Alex's cold blue eyes twitched. "A bit like when I had that parasite on my back-"

Ragland turned to the MRI images again. "Well, I don't see anything here that looks like that."

"Let me finish! I said it's a bit like it. I didn't say it was the same. It's different... not as severe. I still have all my powers," for demonstration, Alex held up one hand as it morphed through a rapid sequence of claws, hammerfist, whip, blade, "but they're weaker than usual. Can't get good range on my distance attacks anymore... keep needing to Consume even when I haven't been injured... And I seem to have less endurance as well. Yesterday I was forced to stop running because I was..." He paused a long moment to search for the word. "...tired. I don't remember ever being that tired before."

Dana shrugged. "Maybe you're just... getting old. Who knows what kind of lifespan you have now?"

Alex growled and looked away.

"That's definitely a possibility," Ragland said. "When did the symptoms start?"

"Couple weeks ago." Alex's nostrils flared. "There it is again."

"There what is again?" asked Desmond.

"Need to Consume." He put up the hood of his jacket and headed out the door. "Maybe I'll get lucky and find some bastard who knows something about my freakish biology."

Dana put a hand on his shoulder. "Take it easy out there, bro. Maybe you're not as immortal as we thought."

Desmond nodded his agreement. "Yeah, you're a creepy freak sometimes but I like having you around, so try not to get yourself killed."

Alex shot them a glare and then stormed out into the night.

 

* * *

 

Desmond awoke to find Alex standing vulturelike over him.

"Uh, hey there. Were you watching me sleep?"

A thin smile split the previously-emotionless face. "Maybe."

Desmond shuddered slightly. "Okay, remember I said you're a creepy freak sometimes? This is one of those times. I think I needa start giving you lessons on how not to skeeve people out."

"Who needs lessons? I know how I could learn it a lot faster." Alex tapped the Assassin's forehead ominously.

Desmond bolted out of bed and forced a fake laugh. "Ha-ha, naw man, you don't wanna Consume me! First off, 'cause I'm your ally, not to mention your boyfriend, or fuckbuddy, or whatever you wanna call our relationship," he babbled rapidly, "but second, and more importantly, 'cause all the Animus-ing means I got, like, five times more memories in me than normal people, so you'd get a really major case of brain freeze or whatever that thing is when you go like," here Desmond grabbed his head and grimaced dramatically.

"Mm." Alex nodded a fraction of an inch.

Satisfied that he was safe, for the foreseeable future at least, Desmond relaxed onto his bed again. "Anyway, didn't you just go out and eat someone? A bad guy, I hope, 'cause you know how I feel about killing innocents."

"Found a nice juicy army officer on the East Side. Her memories were nothing special but they were just what I needed. Thanks to her, I've figured out what happened."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He pointed a cold finger. "Desmond Miles. **You** did this to me."

Desmond shrank back from the accusation. "What? **I** did it? I don't even know what it is, how the fuck did **I** do it?"

"'Fuck' is **exactly** how you did it."

Desmond blinked. "Um... you're saying it's... some sorta STD?"

"Guess you could call it that," Alex huffed.

"But I'm clean!" Desmond protested. "I've only slept with two or three people before you and they were clean, so I'm like ninety-nine percent sure I don't have anything!"

"You have sperm."

"Uh, yeah. Of course I do. Is that a problem? Is Blacklight allergic to sperm?"

"Oh no. Apparently, Blacklight fuckin' **loves** sperm. Perfect way to spread itself, to make more of whatever the fuck I am."

Desmond blinked. "Whadd'ya mean?"

Alex's eyes remained fixed. "It's doing what viruses do best. It's replicating."

"Repli- Hold the phone! You're saying I got you **pregnant**?"

"Yes."

Desmond blinked again, then slowly smiled. "Fucking hell. This is one for the record books. Alex Mercer, the humorless inhuman, just made a joke."

"Do I sound like I'm making a joke?!" Alex snarled, a few angry tentacles roiling off of him.

Desmond jerked back and held up his hands defensively. "How'm I supposed to know, man?! Your voice always sounds the same, no matter what you're saying, it's always that deep gravelly grumble!"

The tentacles continued to writhe. "Consuming you was a joke. But **this** is dead serious."

"You dead seriously think you're pregnant?" Desmond stared at Alex's abdomen, mouth agape. After several seconds of uneasy silence, he managed to state the obvious. "But you're not a woman."

Alex snorted. "True enough, but I'm not exactly a man either."

"Hm. Good point."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Consume" is capitalized because the first Prototype thing I ever read was [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2146041)
> 
> Oh, and btw, Desmond lies about how many sex partners he's had.


	2. Flashback Dat Ass Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so chuffed by the positive response to the first chapter  
> not sure why I said "chuffed", I'm not even british  
> anyway here's chapter two for your consideration  
> there's no mpreg in this one  
> it's just Desmond and Alex being stupid together  
> I can't really control how my stories go most of the time  
> hope you like it tho
> 
> the mpreg will, of course, return next chapter

"I don't see why I need stealth lessons," Alex grumbled, Desmond forcibly pulling him by the wrist along a narrow alley near Central Park.

"Dude, morphing to look like someone else is not the be all and end all of stealth. You gotta be able to slip through a crowd without fucking punching people in the face. That's breaking two tenets with one stone, y'know."

"Tenets?"

They stopped in the shadow of a dumpster and Desmond turned to face him with a slight smirk. "The fuckin' Assassin's Creed, man. I know we've been over this, but I'll give you a quick refresher." He held up a finger. "Don't hurt innocents. That's most of those people out there, okay?"

"Mm."

Desmond held up a second finger. "And don't draw unnecessary attention to yourself."

"Mm."

"Okay, so here's the drill. Get across Central Park without arousing suspicion from the civvies out for a morning hike."

"Got it." Alex was momentarily wreathed in coils of biomass, and when they dispersed, he was taller, stockier, blonder, and military-er.

Desmond lowered his brows. "You shouldn't need a disguise if you're doing it right."

"Well according to you, I can't do it right, so..." Alex ended the sentence with a half-shrug.

"That's why we gotta practice, all right? C'mon, go back to yourself. This guy's ugly." Desmond plucked at the sleeve of the uniform. "And his outfit's gross. Why couldn't you eat someone who did laundry in the past month?"

Alex returned to his usual form. "It's not technically 'eating'-"

"Consuming, whatever," Desmond cut in. "You know what I meant. Let's get on with the lesson."

They slowly walked out from the shadows into the dawning daylight.

Footsteps almost silent, Desmond smoothly interposed himself between a loose group of hikers.

Alex, however, simply lengthened his strides to go around them.

From within his circle of citizenry, Desmond suppressed a grumble. _Whatever, he doesn't wanna put in the effort to learn social stealth, it's his loss._

A sprinkler loomed up ahead on the left, fizzling droplets in a waving arc over their path, and Alex veered wide to stay out of the spray. The rightward scuttling somehow drew Desmond's eyes to the hypnotic rhythm of Alex's glutes. The butt was inhumanly good-looking, the denim barely there as the muscles sinuated along underneath.

The denim of Desmond's own jeans felt suddenly tight, and when he tasted a splash of copper, he realized he'd been biting his lip.  _Ffff. That man... virus... virus-man... whatever he is, he's **hot**._

 

* * *

 

They got through the park without incident. Well, if you didn't count Alex consuming someone as an incident.

Desmond had no idea how the hell people didn't notice when he sidled up behind a total stranger, grabbed them like he was doing the Heimlich or an overenthusiastic bear hug, and sucked them into himself. Because Desmond sure as hell noticed it.

Once Alex, in his newly acquired businessman guise, had stepped foot outside the border of the park, he considered their little stealth practice over, turned back to face Desmond, and shot him a grin. "Race you to the top," he called, then sprinted up the side of a skyscraper, eliciting shocked outcries from the pedestrians.

 

* * *

 

Panting and slightly sweaty, Desmond pulled himself up onto the roof. "God damn, man... Why'd you have to do that?"

"Figured it was my turn to be the sensei." Alex said, lounging on an AC unit, cool as a cucumber. "Compared to me, you can't climb for shit."

"That's not really a fair comparison," Desmond huffed, brushing dust off the front of his hoodie. "You have all your stupid tentacles helping you fling yourself up."

" **Smart** tentacles. Tentacles that can learn to be so much more. Check this, for example." Alex flung his hands out and two narrow shards of red-black shot from inside his jacket sleeves, their pointed ends stopping mere inches from Desmond's collarbone.

Desmond, to his credit, didn't flinch from the mock attack. "Oh. Hidden Blades. I guess I can tell Dad you won't be needing a pair of your own, then. Which is good, 'cause those things aren't cheap."

Alex retracted the biomass blades and grinned again.

Desmond felt a strange compulsion to kiss him, but tamped it down... for the time being, at least. _He doesn't strike me as the spur-of-the-moment type. Better to take it slow, probably. That is, if he's even interested._

"So, what's on tap for the rest of the day, Miles?"

"Uh." He checked his phone for any alerts from HQ, of which there were none. "Nothing, looks like. And, could you call me Desmond?"

"Desmond it is."

The name he'd been called all his life sounded amazingly fresh in that deep voice. Desmond decided now was as good a time as any to try his luck. "Hey, uh, sorry if this is too weird of a thing to ask, but-"

"Desmond," Alex interrupted. "Did you forget who, or rather **what** you are talking to? It would take some serious doing for your question to be 'too weird' for me."

"Mm," Desmond acknowledged. Even so, it took him a while to get around to asking it. First he busied himself with lowering his hood and scratching a non-existent itch behind his ear, then plucking a couple of fabric pills off his sleeve. "You, uh... You ever had sex with a human before?"

"Karen," came the rapid reply.

"Karen?"

"Ex-girlfriend," Alex stated flatly. "We didn't have an official breakup, but she sold me out to Blackwatch so I figure she's not into me anymore. Anyway, you probably mean since the real Alex died and I was created. In which case: No."

"Oh."

Alex turned a cool and unflustered gaze on him. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I..." Desmond had a little trouble getting the next words started, but once he'd begun they slipped out of him almost uncontrollably. "I kinda think you're hot and I kinda wanna do you."

 **Now** Alex was flustered. "I'm... 'hot'."

Desmond nodded fervently.

"Are you fucking joking."

"Nope."

"Not to sound like a broken record, but, did you forget what you're talking to?" He slithered down from the AC unit. "I'm a sentient virus. A murderous beast."

"Yeah, but..." Desmond looked him up and down appreciatively. "...you make it work."

"I 'make it work'," Alex repeated, as if the phrase was foreign to him.

"Yeah." Desmond tilted his head and gestured to various parts of Alex's body. "You're ripped as hell, your clothes cling on ya so right-"

"Technically speaking my clothes are part of me," Alex interrupted.

Desmond gave him a look. "I mean it, man. Whatever your clothes are, I wanna rip 'em off and get me a piece of that action."

Alex just stood there, stoic and silent, considering the concept.

Desmond chuckled. "Sorry if I'm freaking you out here. Seems like you're not up for it. I mean, you had a girlfriend, so odds are you're not into dudes... Are you?" he added with a hopeful note.

"I..." Alex began slowly, eyes focused on an invisible point in the air between them. "...I guess the classifications 'gay' and 'straight' don't really apply to me."

"Um. Do you even..." Desmond trailed off.

Alex's blue blue eyes focused back on the Assassin's face. "Do I even **what**?"

"Uh. I was gonna ask if you even have, like, sexual feelings? Since, y'know," Desmond made a vaguely apologetic hand gesture, "I'm pretty sure viruses don't reproduce sexually?"

"Well..." Alex retreated into his hoodie and looked away. "Blacklight isn't like other viruses."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning... I don't know." He scrunched his hands deeper into his jacket pockets.

"You don't know if you're attracted to me," Desmond said slowly.

"Or anyone. Or any **thing**. I honestly don't fucking know." He shrugged angrily. "Getting laid hasn't been one of my priorities in a long time."

Desmond stepped closer and took gentle hold of Alex's hood, pushing it back to let daylight reveal the short-shaggy hair, the chiseled cheekbones, the pouty lips. "Well... I know I'm attracted to you."

A small tendril flicked out from under Alex's shirt collar and tried to pull his hood back up, but Desmond batted it away. The tendril hesitated a moment, then curled loosely over Desmond's hand.

"Me. Alex 'Blacklight'-'Zeus'-'Public Enemy Number One' Mercer. You sure?"

Desmond cracked a tiny smile and gave the tendril a slight handshake as if in greeting. He would have expected it to be cold and slimy, but no; it was surreally warm. "I haven't run away screaming yet, have I?"

Alex didn't say anything, just creeped a hand out from his pocket and touched Desmond's face with the barest tip of one finger.

"It doesn't have to be romantic or anything," Desmond said. "We can just, y'know... kinda test the waters? Except maybe that's not a good phrase to use, 'cause I know you and water are kinda like-"

"Shut up," Alex said, but there was a chuckle in his voice and a smile on his face. "I'll give it a shot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes I'm aware that "sinuated" and "military-er" are not real words, just hush up and enjoy the fic
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> please have your choice of Desmond's "dat ass" faces:  
> [1](http://algrenion.deviantart.com/art/AC-DEM-GENES-200995096)  
> [2](http://www.deviantart.com/art/WHUT-212789447) (my personal fave)  
> [3](http://datanimusplz.deviantart.com/art/Dat-Animus-174303974)
> 
> also I changed my mind, "consume" isn't capitalized because "assassinate" isn't capitalized so there, sorry


	3. Start Spreadin' The News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex has some emotions. Not a lot, but some.  
> Desmond uses "creepy preggo freak" as a term of endearment.  
> Rebecca ships it.  
> William doesn't.

"So.... Uhh...." Desmond stalled for time, waiting for his brain to finish the churning and turmoil of processing this new fact.

The fact that he'd impregnated Alex.

If indeed it really was a fact.

Which it might not be.

Nothing was true, after all. Surely if that aphorism applied to anything, it applied to this. Alex could just be grossly mistaken. And wouldn't Dr. Ragland have picked up something like that on the MRI?

But then again, everything was permitted. And with Alex's exotic biology, it was likely the thing inside him didn't look at all like a normal pregnancy. And who's to say Dr. Ragland even knew anything about normal pregnancies anyway? He sure wasn't an obstetrician.

Desmond's eyes trailed back to Alex's abdomen. Was it his imagination or did it look a little less well-defined? He squeezed his eyes shut for a few beats before looking back up and raising the salient point he'd for some reason only just now remembered. "But we used a condom."

Alex let out a harsh exhalation of breath that could have been a kind of laugh. "I thought about that too. But then I took into account my non-humanity."

Unclear on how this explained anything, Desmond waited for further explanation.

"Sure wasn't any condom when you came down my throat," Alex said, a sly grin creeping over his face.

"Throat!?" Desmond's voice went up an octave. "You're saying it... but... but that doesn't... that's just impossible!"

"Impossible like zombies overrunning New York? Or impossible like dying and coming back as a vi-"

Desmond held up a hand to cut him off. "Okay, I get it. But still, a fuckin' blowjob baby?"

"I don't have a digestive system, Desmond," Alex reminded him. "Best I can figure, my body would probably have done the same thing with your sperm no matter where you put it in me."

"Geez, you really are a freak." Desmond slumped against the headboard. "So, um.... What now?"

Alex shrugged, then set his hands fiercely on his hips. "Guess we're gonna be parents."

"Um." Desmond swallowed. "Do we have to?"

"Who else is gonna?"

"Nobody?" Desmond ventured. "I mean, if you're even right about being pregnant, then surely there's, uh, other options?"

"Other options," Alex repeated, his voice heavy and cold as a stone slab.

"I mean, this is pretty much the unplanned-est pregnancy ever, right?"

"No."

"Well, I know **I** didn't plan this, and I'm pretty sure you-"

"I mean no, I'm not going to abort."

Desmond froze open-mouthed for a beat, then tried and failed to say something. _What are you even supposed to say in a situation like this? Shit, there's never really been 'a situation like this' before. Shiiiit._

"I've spent my whole life just killing." Alex seated himself uneasily on the bed. "Killing, and killing, and killing. And then killing some more."

"Ah... A lot of them were Infected, they don't count, right?" Desmond tried to counter.

Alex turned to face him and snarled "Don't count as what? Human? Where does that leave me, then?!"

"I-" Desmond hesitated, but only half-a-second, "I mean it doesn't count as murder if they were mindless zombies, okay?! You're nothing like them, Alex!" He dared to take hold of the virus-man's shoulder. "You might not technically be 'human', but you're definitely a person. And a pretty good person at that." He gave an unsteady smile and put his other hand over his heart. "I like you, man, even with all the stuff you've done. Yeah, you've done a lot of killing, but so have I. Sometimes it's necessary. And don't forget, you've saved some lives too."

"Not anywhere near the number I've ended. And now... Now I've... **We've** started one." He put a hand stiffly on his stomach.

This reminder of the pregnancy knocked a little wind out of Desmond's lungs. He'd gotten a bit wrapped up in the Alex-having-a-morality-crisis tangent, and had almost forgotten the actual issue at hand.

"Sure didn't intend to start it. But it's started, and I don't want to end it."

Desmond could kind of follow this logic. Kind of. "...You sure, man? Kids are a lot of work. You, uh, I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but," he lowered his voice and half-mumbled, "you don't really strike me as parent material."

"Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent," Alex quoted.

 _Oh geez._ Desmond rubbed the bedsheets nervously between his fingers. "Uh, I don't think you gotta interpret that as bein' against abortion. I mean, Assassins are about freedom. As in, pro-choice, y'know?"

"I've. Made. My. Choice." Alex's ragged punctuation of the sentence let Desmond know that there would be no changing of his mind.

"I guess you have." Desmond sighed and collapsed wearily against his pillow. "So this is it. Alex Mercer is pregnant. God, if that isn't the weirdest thing in the world." He suddenly started giggling.

"This is not fucking **funny**!" Alex roared.

"Pfft! Sorry, dude, but I just got this mental image of you trying to be your badass self with a ginormous belly." Tears of mirth leaked out of Desmond's eyes. "I'll finally be able to beat you in a parkour race!"

The angry tentacles were back with a vengeance, and several of them lifted Desmond up bodily off the bed. "Listen to me, Miles," Alex hissed through the narrow slit of his mouth, "I'm going through with this but don't think for a second you're not going through it with me."

Desmond paled. "You- you're gonna... knock **me** up too?!"

Alex belted out a short laugh and the tentacles nearly lost their grip. "No, dumbass, I don't mean it like that. Not even sure that's possible." He set Desmond back down, his voice becoming a tiny bit softer. "I just mean you gotta stick around. Do your part taking care of the little shit."

"'Little shit.' Is that what we're calling the baby?" At the sound of this last word, Desmond winced and covered his face with one arm. "God damn. Us two, havin' a baby. This is so insane."

Alex grunted his agreement. There was an eerie silence before he spoke up again, almost inaudibly.

"Hm?" Desmond moved his arm away from his face, and saw Alex had melted away his hoodie and glided over the bedsheets until he was lying next to him.

"What do you think the others will say?" he murmured.

Desmond grimaced. "Aw, fuck. We gotta tell 'em, don't we? Can't keep this relationship secret anymore."

A deep throaty chuckle, almost malicious-sounding. "Guess not."

"I'm gonna hafta finally come out to my folks."

Alex smirked. "They still don't know you're gay?"

"I think they might suspect something's up."

"Can't believe you haven't told 'em yet. You scared they'll morph into Bible-thumping Jesus freaks and disown you?"

"Heh, not as such, no. But they might be a little disappointed. They been bugging me lately to settle down and start a family. Part of me thinks it's just 'cause of this genetic memory shit." Desmond knocked his knuckles lightly on his forehead. "Somebody hundreds a'years from now might needa see some crap me or my ancestors did."

"Well, now you can tell them 'mission accomplished, the lineage continues'."

"They might not be too happy I did it with **you** , though."

"Hm." Alex crinkled his face in thought. "How's it gonna work on my side? Is Little Shit gonna get the memories of everyone I've consumed? And their ancestors?"

Desmond smiled and mussed Alex's hair briefly. "Fuck if I know, man. This is kinda the first time anything like this ever happened. We're blazing new ground here. For now, just lemme get back to sleep, you creepy preggo freak."

 

* * *

 

"Okay, guys, um, gather round," Desmond called out to the ragtag group of Assassins and hangers-on inside the Brotherhood's Manhattan base. "Me and Alex got something to tell ya."

"I knew it!" Rebecca hooted, clapping her hands together. Every head in the room swiveled to look at her as she jumped up from her computer and bounced toward Desmond and Alex. "I knew Des was gay and I knew you two were hooking up! I was literally counting the days 'til you came out about it!"

Desmond felt his face grow hot. This "telling everybody" thing hadn't even properly started and it was already out of control.

"Aww, lookit him blush!" Rebecca squeed.

"That's not it," Alex said, completely unfazed. Not having much in the way of human emotions was a real boon at times like this. Shyness, embarrassment, shame, et cetera: he knew the concepts, but the feelings themselves hardly ever manifested.

Desmond coughed quietly and Alex soon amended his statement. "That's part of it, but that's not the-"

"What?!" William interrupted, eyes wide, face twitching. "Desmond? You- you're... And with **him**?"

Desmond sighed and stared at the floor. "Yeah, Dad. I'm gay. I'm gay for a terrorist virus dude."

Alex didn't even allow this revelation a second to sink in before adding "And he got me pregnant."

"Got you **what**?" William sputtered.

"Preg. Nant." The two short syllables resonated through the room.

Desmond glanced up from the floor briefly to see smiles beginning to form on some faces, looks of befuddlement on others. He took a deep breath and decided, for better or worse, to just get this over with. "No, he's not joking, he says it's possible 'cause he's Blacklight, and he wants to keep it," he rattled off.

Pin-drop silence followed.

"So, yeah." Desmond scratched his head idly. "That about covers it, I guess."

Dana tapped her fingers fidgetfully against a table. "So... this must be why you've been feeling under the weather lately. Um. Congrats?"

"Dunno if 'congrats' is really appropriate here," Desmond muttered. "We're not all too happy about it."

William stumbled haltingly across the room to stand before his son. "You're... with him?!" He jabbed a disbelieving finger toward Alex.

Desmond facepalmed. "Jesus, Dad, I already said yes, just deal with it already. Sorry I didn't come out earlier, but my gayness isn't the issue right now."

"Gay or not, I don't care, but **him**?!"

Desmond couldn't help but feel insulted. "C'mon, it's not like I'm banging a Templar or something terrible like that."

Alex shoved William's jabbing finger away. "You should be fuckin' ecstatic. Being with me means he was able to make you a grandparent, isn't that what you wanted?"

William's arms quivered. "Gra... grandparent..." He couldn't muster any further words after that.

Rebecca raised her hand. "Is the baby a human, or an Alex, or a little of both?"

"We don't fucking know, okay?!"

Undeterred, Rebecca kept up her questions. "How's it gonna be born?"

"Ditto!"

"I could just morph a new orifice when the time comes," Alex said offhandedly.

"Eeeugh." Desmond's stomach churned as he involuntarily visualized that process.

"Chill, Des." Alex gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder, which inadvertently knocked him off balance. "I'll put it back the way you like it after."

Desmond rebalanced himself against a desk and then shuddered. "Oh god, 'after'." Dude who accidentally knocks down trees just by bumping into 'em, taking care of a **baby**." He shot Alex a pointed look. "We gotta get you some damn good parenting classes, or else you're gonna end up murdilating our kid."

Alex scowled. "Oh, no, **you're** doing the parenting. The sex was **your** idea."

"Well obviously I didn't know this would happen, shitface! And I seem to recall you were pretty into it once we got started!"

William cleared his throat. "Why don't the two of you go have your little domestic dispute somewhere else? We have work to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh no, some sappy shit crept in, despite the prompter's instructions
> 
> idk if i will actually write any sex scenes in this
> 
> idk if i could do a good job at that
> 
> i've never written an M/M sex before


	4. Human Appearance, Eccentric Insides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Alex sucks at making out](http://konanxpein4ever.deviantart.com/art/Birth-of-an-Assassin-189572488) but he has an upgraded asshole.  
>  Desmond is horny but nervous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> referencing an obscure power metal song in the chapter title like a boss
> 
> here is an image to set the kind of mood for this chapter:  
> [ together... by LinART](http://linart.deviantart.com/art/together-196422072)  
> except ignore the blood part, just take in the atmosphere of the gentle top desmond and the hesitant bottom alex
> 
> I hope this is somewhat hot and not just weird and silly.

 

A biting autumn wind flowed over the rooftop duo. Alex's fingertip was still on Desmond's cheek and he slowly ran it chinward. "So."

"So," Desmond echoed, equally unsure of what his next move should be. Time quickly stretched out to widen the gulf between Alex's "I'll give it a shot" and the here-and-now. In most of his past hookups, both of them would already be halfway naked within moments after agreeing to sex. This would most definitely not be like any of his past hookups. Desmond flicked his eyes briefly down, painting an imagined nude landscape in his mind.

If Alex noticed he was being mentally undressed, he didn't show any reaction. He just brought his hand back slack against his side and asked, "How are we doing this?

"Let's start with 'where'."

"Mm." Alex tilted his head to scan the horizon.

"How about your hideout place? I mean, if nobody else is there..."

"Should be deserted right now." Alex shot him another one of those wild smiles. "Race you there?"

Desmond blinked, his mind wiped by the smile. "Uh, remind me where it is?"

"Just follow my lead." And with that, Alex was off, bounding across wide gaps between rooftops like it wasn't no thing. Desmond was barely able to keep him in sight as they made their way northwest.

 

* * *

 

 

"How are we doing this?" Alex asked again once they were inside the hideout.

"Uh, well, I..." Desmond trailed off, feeling a little shy.

Alex turned around lackadaisically to face him. "C'mon. Finish the sentence."

"I wanna kiss you." Desmond regretted this as soon as it was out, for Alex's lip curled in apparent disgust. "Sorry, uh... sorry."

"Don't gotta apologize." Alex's lip uncurled and he stuck his hands in his pockets. "It's just... It's an odd concept, isn't it. Mashing mouths together."

"Yeah, I guess if you think about it, all of human sexuality is kinda odd." Desmond gave a little smile. "But it can be fun, too, so how 'bout we just... try not to think about it too much?" He hung his hoodie over the back of a chair and approached his would-be lover, taking light grasp of his wrists to stop the unconscious retreating of his body.

"Fun." Alex tested the sound of the word as he looked up at Desmond. This, too, was odd, the sense of smallness he had, though their heights only differed by a couple of inches.

Desmond saw himself reflected in those glacial eyes, and tried to discern the emotion behind them. Was there any? There had to be. Human or not, Alex was unmistakably a sentient being. The whole of New York had seen the heights of his anger and wrath; surely he was capable of feeling pleasure and happiness too.

 _Here goes. One small step for man..._ Desmond tilted his head and put their lips together. Alex's were windchilled and chapped, and twitching time to time. He tried to pry them apart with a deft tongue maneuver but they fought back, walling off against the intrusion.

 _Okay, he's not up for tongue. Fair enough._ He settled for just pressing deeper against Alex's face, inhaling the indescribable scent, a warm and palpable musk that thrilled right through him.

Alex's arms hung semi-limp and Desmond chanced letting go, putting his hands under the two jackets, feeling the well-defined muscle tone of hips.

Alex shuddered a little at the touch. _Vulnerable. Unsafe. Fight back,_ monotoned the instinct in him. _No. He's an ally. A friend. He won't hurt us,_ he told the instinct, and tried immersing himself into the kiss, odd as it was. The gesture of mouth on mouth was timeless but still strange and new.

Desmond ran his hands up to Alex's arms, tried sliding the jackets off, but- _oh, wow, he wasn't kidding_ \- the clothes really were part of him, and would not separate entirely from his skin.

"Mph." A mass of black grew from Alex's chest and pushed Desmond out of the kiss. "Enough of that," he said, the words tight and tense.

"Okay, uh. Let's, um. Where's the bedroom?"

Down a bare-walled hallway and past a crowded sitting room, and then they were there, and Alex again looked to Desmond for direction.

"Well..." Desmond said, "I guess we could just go ahead and get naked, then see how-woah."

This interjection was caused by the sight of Alex's clothes turning to wispy black clouds, then evaporating. Not all at once, though. First went the hood, then the jackets and shirt, revealing flawless flesh, nearly as pale as marble. Desmond's eyes traveled downward, hungrily anticipating. When Alex's jeans disappeared, he nodded appreciatively, unconsciously licked his lips. "Nice cock." He'd half-wondered if the guy would turn out to have some freaky tentacle genitals instead.

The hunched-over Alex grunted to acknowledge the compliment as a few final threads of pseudo-fabric retracted. Lingering tendrils flickered around him, and Desmond, knowing those tendrils could all too quickly form into any number of different weapons, didn't dare do anything but look for now. His heart pounded as he pondered the various angles and curves laid bare for the first time ever since Alex's previous life. _Shit, this guy's practically a virgin,_ Desmond realized.

After a few moments of the Assassin's gaze consuming him, Alex scowled. "Don't just stare at me, Miles." He stepped boldly forward, took hold of Desmond's shirt, jerked it up and over his head, tearing a couple of the stitches in his haste to make Desmond just as _naked unshielded vulnerable_ as himself.

"Ah!" Desmond yelped, slipping his arms out of their holes so the shirt wouldn't be entirely ruined in the removal. "Okay, geez, I was stunned by your hotness, okay, sorry!" He took off his pants and boxers and kicked them into the corner where Alex had thrown the shirt.

Alex stared at Desmond's erect penis as if he'd never even imagined such a thing could exist.

"Uh, yeah, you have that effect on me," Desmond said. "So, uh. Who's on top?"

"What?"

Desmond rolled his eyes. "C'mon dude, I know you're not **that** ignorant about human stuff. Usually I like to be top but I totally understand if you wanna-"

"You go ahead."

Desmond blinked. "Huh?"

"You go ahead." Alex stepped closer, an unnatural flush of color coming to his face. "I... I wouldn't want to injure you."

Desmond took a deep breath. This was really happening. He was really going to fuck the insanely hot and insanely deadly Alex Mercer. His dick throbbed in anticipation. "All right. Hold on a sec." He scurried over to the corner and dug in his pants pocket for his wallet.

"What're you doing?"

"Condom," Desmond pulled out the crinkled metallic packet that had been in there so long he'd almost forgotten it. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't wanna catch the, uh, what you are."

"Aw, c'mon, Miles, Blacklight isn't that bad," Alex purred, snaking out a thick tendril which took the condom right from Desmond's hand. "Sure as hell isn't fatal. Quite the opposite. I'm pretty much immortal. Not to mention all the powers."

"Sure, your powers are cool, but I don't wanna get all my memories wiped and shit." Desmond grabbed back the condom and placed it firmly on the bedside table. "And don't call me Miles."

"Whatever." Alex slumped onto the bed.

Desmond sat down beside him and lifted his hand to comb through that untamed tangle of hair. "Does your hair grow?" he asked suddenly.

"You're asking that **now**?"

Desmond brushed the hair from Alex's forehead, the better to see his piercing eyes. "Well, it just occurred to me to ask it. Plus I wanna hear more of your sexy voice."

Alex wrinkled his nose, but answered anyway. "Doesn't grow. Not on its own. My appearance is static unless I change it."

"Cool," Desmond breathed.

"My turn." Alex touched Desmond's face again, this time stroking over his scar. "How'd this happen?"

Desmond's lips moved under Alex's fingers as he gave a smiling answer. "Broken glass. I was goofing off on the job at Bad Weather."

"Hm." He moved his hand down to Desmond's bare chest, exploring the terrain methodically.

"Okay, enough Q-and-A, I guess. Back to the action." Desmond reached for Alex's cock, felt it shudder and begin to harden at his tender touch. Slowly he started a smooth rhythm of strokes. "How you feelin'?"

"It's... mmph," he murred through pursed lips. "Hard to describe."

"Good? Bad?"

"Mm. In between. Closer to 'good'." Alex sounded tense, but a little less so than before, as he laid back and half-closed his eyes.

Desmond kept up the stroking for a bit, but the sight of all that perfect man-flesh before him and the rumbling bass of that voice in his ears was nearly too much to bear. He took a second to psyche himself up before giving Alex a directive. "Uh, I'll need you to... flip over? If I'm gonna-"

"Mm," Alex said again. He rolled over and got onto all fours with an almost feline grace while Desmond fumbled the condom onto himself.

The situation still seemed incredibly unreal to Desmond, but he pinched himself and didn't wake up, so yes, it was really happening. He swallowed back trepidation and took up a seat near Alex's rear. "I'm, uh, I'll start with my fingers, okay?" _Not like I'm gonna hurt him, but I sure don't wanna startle him by just jamming my dick in there straight away._

Desmond's finger wasn't even two inches in before it froze and he let out a "Woah."

"What?"

"It feels-" Desmond paused a moment, trying to decide on the best word to describe it. "...unusual."

"I'm an unusual guy," Alex answered dryly.

"Yeah, I knew that, but still..." Desmond flexed his finger slightly against the sinuous shifting warmth, provoking a small grunt from Alex. "I didn't expect little mini-tentacle deals inside your ass."

"I don't eat like a human, so I don't have a human digestive tract. Ah," Alex added as Desmond removed his finger. "You grossed out?"

"Uh. Surprisingly enough, I'm actually not." Desmond examined his fingertip, finding it thinly coated in clear goo. "That's... gonna be interesting."

"So you still 'wanna do me'."

Desmond grinned. "I'm still horny, so yeah. If you're still up for it."

"Let you know the second I change my mind."

"All righty then." Desmond returned to probing. His finger slid in quite easily despite how small the entrance was.

"Ugh." Alex closed his eyes.

Desmond stopped again. "S'it hurt?" he asked automatically.

"No."

"You sure?"

"I got a real high pain threshold. Your fucking finger is not hurting me," Alex said, shifting on the bed so that his face was buried in the sheets. "Just feels... unusual."

"You wanna stop?"

"No," Alex said again, a bit louder this time. "Keep going."

"Okay." Desmond pushed the finger in all the way, wiggled it about a bit. "Man. Really slippery. Wow. Are you, like, making your own lube in here?"

Alex shrugged. "Maybe I'm horny too."

Desmond frowned. "Whaddya mean 'maybe'? You mean you don't know?"

"Shut up and keep going!"

Desmond's frown reversed itself into a smirk. "Sounds like you **are** horny, dude."

Alex's only answer was a low growl.

"Heh." Desmond added a second finger, and Alex let out another sound, less like a growl this time and more like a raspy moan. "Oh, you like that, huh?" He wiggled the fingers more vigorously. "Bet you'll like a cock even more."

"Unhhh. This is so weird," Alex groaned into the bedsheets. Streaks of black and red were faintly visible swimming under his pale skin.

"Weird, but good, sounds like." Desmond pulled out with a wet shlurping sound. "Woah." A few dark tendrils came out as well, gripping onto his fingers and trying to pull them back inside. "Uh, can you let go of me?"

Very slowly, the tendrils released their hold, then, moving faster, stretched out, wrapped around Desmond's arm. He laughed.

Alex lifted his head to glare back at him. "Somethin' funny?"

"Your ass-vines are macking on me, and it tickles!" Desmond flicked the tendrils away with his other hand. "C'mon, shoo, shoo! I know I'm sexy, but I can't fuck you if you're doing that!"

Alex's glare softened. "Heh."

It was the first time Desmond had ever heard him laugh, and he liked the sound. **Really** liked it.

"Looks like my body is ready," Alex said as the vines withdrew.

"Here we go." Desmond positioned himself appropriately and spread apart the pale buttcheeks. More of the clear goo he'd found on his fingers earlier was dripping out. "Man. You are **totally** making your own lube in there!"

"Shut up and get to it, Miles!"

"I told you don't call me that."

"Don't be so slow about fucking me, then!" Alex retorted, but there was a faint hint of playfulness underneath his words. "Go ahead, I'm not gonna break."

Desmond held his breath and slid in, feeling almost no resistance. This was definitely the strangest asshole he'd ever encountered, full of writhing tendrils that flowed this way and that, but it didn't feel gross. If anything, it felt like an improvement over human assholes.

Alex chuckled again. "Can't believe I'm doing this."

"You and me both, man," Desmond said, gripping Alex's thighs and pushing in again, more forcefully this time. After a couple of thrusts, he groped about and took hold of Alex's cock. Some liquid was dribbling from the head, and he thumbed it slickly over the shaft as he pumped his hand in time with his hips.

As if in response, the tendrils inside Alex's ass gripped around Desmond's own cock, nearly sending him over the edge when one tried poking into his urethra, and he was very glad for the condom's protection at that point.

"Oh. This is... good," murmured Alex into the bedsheets.

More tendrils soon swirled into being and reached out to encircle Desmond's waist. He was hyper-aware of every molecule of biomass on his skin, from the pulsing waves kissing his cock to the strong snarls about his hips. He let himself be drawn forward by the tendrils, collide with Alex's firm ass, then with some difficulty, pulled back against their grip in order to begin another thrust.

"Ah... fuck, Des," Alex gasped and then groaned.

Desmond paused his thrusts. "You doing okay?"

"Don't stop."

Not wanting to anger the great and powerful Alex Mercer, Desmond resumed his rhythm.

"I... ah," Alex gasped again when Desmond replunged into him. These feelings- being touched, being taken- were so incredibly alien to him, dizzying, disorienting, yet somehow in the clouded depths of his mind they were familiar as well. How could they be familiar, he hadn't ever- there was Karen, of course, and others before her, but they were women, Alex had never been penetrated- "Desss," he hissed, tongue flicking out snakelike- Alex had never, but those he'd consumed, his prey, certainly some of them, their memories- "Unh" -hot hips smacked against him, again and again and again- perhaps these feelings weren't his own, but they felt so unnaturally right, why not accept them anyway?

Desmond was also letting out intermittent noises, awash in the heady intoxication that came from having this specific guy underneath him, willingly submitting to be fucked, and seemingly really enjoying it too. He steadied himself with a hand on Alex's back as he rocked back and forth, the pale skin quivering under his touch. Faster and faster he went, edging towards the point of no return. "Unh... Al- Alex... you... fffuck..."

"Mmaah," Alex said, too lost in sensations to find words. His head was turning foggy, his legs felt weak, and his infrared vision was flickering on and off. He felt something; he was in no way able to identify it, but it was happening inside him and he couldn't stop it.

"So good," Desmond said, "sooo... oh god I'm gonna-"

Alex's felt the hand on his back and the hand on his cock tense in unison, and both touches made the unidentifiable feeling ramp up and up and up until he could scarcely contain it.

"I'm... Oh god, Alex!" Desmond yelled, startling the tendrils into wrapping tighter around his torso, and he bent forward, gasping through his orgasm, and somehow sensing that Alex was in the throes of his own.

This was another timeless newness for Alex's mind as a vast pleasure rushed through his whole body, shivering, shooting, sparking, spewing.

Desmond bit his lip again, overwhelmed with release.

Alex's cock pulsed in hot waves beneath Desmond's fingers, and he was only dimly aware of the strangled "Unngh" sound he was making. In the back of his mind ran jumbled words that didn't make much sense together.

_Yes- this- good- why- feel- extend- make- spreading- more- enjoy- good- repeat-_

At last he collapsed limp and disheveled onto the sheets, feeling more tired than he'd ever thought possible for a being such as himself.

Desmond fell down beside him, breathing deeply of their sweat with every slow pant. "Haa... ho... holy... shit," he finally managed.

"Yyyyeah," rumbled Alex, face down against a pillow.

"So..." Desmond wiped sweat from his forehead. "Learned... somethin' new.... about Blacklight."

"Yeah." Alex couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Experiment... successful."

"Yeah."

"Fuck yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [how desmond got his scar](http://atlantima.deviantart.com/art/Not-His-Night-198907793)  
> [alex's body is ready](http://thelizangel.deviantart.com/art/Come-in-my-bed-326706047)  
>  sorry, i'm not consciously trying to link this story to various deviantart pics, it just kinda happened that way


	5. Slash Slash Slash Slash, Yum Yum Yum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snarky Shaun. Hungry Alex. Protective Desmond. Confused Ragland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah, looks like every chapter title's gonna be a reference to a song lyric.

Shaun didn't say anything re: the pregnancy after it was revealed, and Desmond was grateful for this, having feared the Brit would use it as fodder for some sort of insult, the way he used most things.

It was lunch the next day when he finally gave the first indication that he'd even heard the announcement.

"So you're dating our resident alien."

"He's not an alien," Desmond said after a beat, avoiding Shaun's eyes and looking instead across the room at Alex reclined on a shabby couch.

"Forgive me my metaphor," Shaun said, snidely adjusting the bridge of his glasses with one finger. "Virus, then. You're dating the virus."

"I wouldn't call it 'dating'. We were just, y'know. Fooling around." Desmond still wouldn't make eye contact, but now focused his gaze on the bean casserole.

"You were fooling around, unprotected, with a walking talking pathogen."

"Um." Desmond twiddled his fork in his fingers. "Not unprotected."

Shaun gave a derisive laugh. "Pull the other one."

"Well, turns out... " Desmond finally met his eyes, fixing his face firmly as he replied, "Turns out condoms don't work with him."

"You sure you were using it properly? It goes on your-"

"Fuck off, Shaun, I know how to use a damn condom!" Desmond spat, the words coming out a little louder than he'd meant them to. "It's the fucking Blacklight, it ate microscopic holes in the latex or something, okay?!" He had no intention of describing the actual route his seed had traveled.

"Did it now?"

"Obviously!"

"Hm," Shaun said, and took a drink of water.

Desmond figured that was the end of it, and so went back to eating his casserole.

He nearly choked when Shaun spoke up again unexpectedly after a couple minutes.

"You should've used one with spermicide in."

"Fuck, Shaun, maybe I would have, except I didn't know this could happen! Even he didn't fucking know it could happen!"

"Well, perhaps you could have foreseen this possibility if you were a little more educated."

Desmond shot him a harsh glare. "What the fuck."

Shaun took another short sip of his water.

"Seriously, Shaun, what the actual fuck."

"He is Zeus, after all," Shaun said, weirdly upbeat. "Which, by the way, I have a couple of smashing ideas for baby names."

"You're not making any goddamn sense."

"According to Greek mythology, Athena gestated inside Zeus' head, and Dionysus inside his thigh."

Desmond gagged. "Yuck." He turned his head and called out, "Hey Alex!"

Alex lifted his head. "Wha?"

"The kid's not growing in your head or thigh, right? It's in the normal place?"

Alex looked bemused by the question. "As far as I know."

"Well maybe we should check that MRI again, make damn sure!"

"If you're done eating your stupid lunch, I was gonna suggest hitting up Ragland anyway," Alex grumbled, springing to his feet.

The truth of it was that Desmond wasn't done eating, not by a long shot, but after Shaun's mention of babies growing inside heads and thighs, his appetite had vanished. So he abandoned the half-eaten casserole and hopped across the cafeteria to join Alex. "You sure you don't wanna go to one of our doctors instead?"

"Ragland and I have... a rapport," Alex said as they shuffled out into the hallway.

"How helpful is he gonna be, though? He couldn't even tell what was goin' on. And he works in a morgue, for fuck's sake, he probably doesn't know shit about pregnancy."

"He knows shit about Blacklight."

"Well... yeah," Desmond had to agree with him there. "Let's go, then." And with that, they headed out. It was only a few blocks from the Assassin base to Ragland's joint, but Alex was leading the way and decided to take a scenic route, winding through the streets and back alleys of Manhattan.

Dark gray clouds hung over the entire island, masking the sun's rays. "Hope it doesn't rain," Alex said.

Desmond shook his head. "You and your aquaphobia."

"Hey, I don't have a problem with water! It's the other way around, the water just can't handle **me**!"

Desmond smiled. "Y'know, you're cute when you get all wet."

Alex leaned over and growled right into Desmond's ear. "Don't. Call. Me. Cute."

"But it's true," Desmond said, unintimidated. "What, you prefer 'hot' or 'sexy'?"

"I-" Alex's eye twitched and his face changed color slightly. "Just shut up, Miles."

"Don't call me Miles," came the automatic reply.

"Don't call me cute."

"Fair enough." Desmond stuck out his hand and they shook on it.

The clouds grew more ominous as they continued their walk.

"Y'know, I still need to tell Mom."

"Where is she anyway?"

"Some mission up in Canada. Abstergo's got a branch office in Montreal; her team's monitoring some shenanigans there."

"Can't just email her?"

Desmond chewed his tongue for a moment, pondering the suggestion. "Ehh, somethin' like this, I think I'd prefer to tell her face-to-face. She's supposed to come back in a couple weeks."

"Mm."

When they turned the next corner, Desmond blinked a few times and lifted his head to scan the sky. "Shit. Uh, Alex? Is the air kinda red around here, or is it just me? I hope it's just me."

"S'not just you," Alex said quietly through a narrow grin.

"Shit," Desmond repeated, and stopped walking. "Let's go a different way, then, huh?"

"I picked this way on purpose, Miles."

"Don't call me- Buh-wha?! You- but there could be Infected!"

"There **are** ," Alex said, raising one arm casually to indicate a few zombies milling around at the other end of the street.

Desmond's eyes widened and he tried grabbing Alex's jacket to tug him backwards out of the alley to safety.

But the clothing-tendrils slithered nimbly through his fingers as Alex steadily stepped forward, hands becoming claws with a deft wrist-flick. "Scared?" he said teasingly to Desmond, keeping his eyes focused on the mindless group of Infected. "I'll protect ya, Princess."

"It's not **me** I'm worried about!" Desmond hissed. "It's you! You and the..." His throat closed up and he found himself utterly unable to say the word "baby".

"Little Shit is precisely why I'm doin' this," Alex said with a low chuckle. One of the Infected finally noticed him and began to shamble its way over, trailed by its companions. Alex sprinted forward, slashing gleefully though the lead zombie, then the other three, crushing the final one's skull with a loud _squelch_.

As soon as the fight had started, it was over. Desmond's throat opened back up and he retched his casserole onto the sidewalk.

Alex turned back to face him. "Aw, whassa matter? Morning sickness? You pregnant too now?"

Desmond wiped his mouth and glared. "Fuck off, it's 'I just had to watch your slaughterfest' sickness. Aw crap." He'd just now noticed a rogue splash of red that had reached him from said slaughterfest. "You got a bunch of blood on me!"

"You should take a page from my book and wear black instead of white." Alex spread his arms wide and morphed his hoodie to a copy of Desmond's, blood stain and all. "Or Blacklight instead of white," he added with a laugh, again morphing the garment until it was impossibly immaculate. "Save on your laundry bill."

Desmond turned up the intensity on his glare. "If I turn Infected because of this, I'm so going to kill you."

"You'll be fine, unless you're planning to lick your clothes clean. Then you might have a problem."

"Hmph. You're lucky this is just a crappy six-dollar hoodie." Desmond crumpled it up and chucked it into a dumpster. "So, you wanna tell me why exactly you felt it necessary to go seeking out a zombie fight?"

Alex gave a halfheartedly apologetic shrug. "Like I said. Had to get my consume on for Little Shit."

Desmond sighed. "So you're really gonna keep calling him that."

"Yeah." Alex morphed his hands back to normal and stuck them in his pockets as he and Desmond continued down the street. "Unless you got a better name."

"Well..."

"Mm?"

"Shaun, I guess, was tryna suggest 'Athena' or 'Deoni...something'," Desmond said with a smirk that faltered as he failed to remember the second one.

"Those names are shit."

"Yeah. They are."

They walked on in silence and mercifully didn't encounter any more Infected. When they were at the door of the morgue, Desmond spoke up again. "'Deon' might be good, though? Maybe?"

Alex stopped, frozen with his hand on the doorknob for a long moment before he answered, "Mm. Maybe."

 

* * *

 

"Pregnant?" Dr. Ragland adjusted his glasses. "But you-"

Alex's glare stopped the rest of the sentence.

Dr. Ragland cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, I suppose it's... not outside the realm of possibility."

"The miracle of life," Alex said, sarcasm dripping heavily from his words.

"He wants to keep it, though," Desmond said.

"Oh?"

Alex confirmed this with a curt nod.

"Yeah, but honestly, I'm still not a hundred percent sure I believe he's pregnant at all," Desmond said.

"Well, I'll take another look at the imaging study." Dr. Ragland sat down at his computer and clicked through several interfaces to bring up the saved MRI images. Desmond and Alex stood behind him, leaning over to get a better view. "Hmm..." The doctor tapped the screen to indicate a section of one slide. "I suppose this could be a sort of quasi-uterus."

They leaned in closer. "That's it?" Desmond asked. "That white blobby thing?"

"I think so." Dr. Ragland scrolled through several more slides and then back. "Can't be totally sure, but I don't see any other likely candidates."

"Hm." Desmond squinted at the screen. "Doesn't look like anything. But I guess that's 'cause it's still early on, right?"

"Right."

"So where is it?" Alex asked.

Dr. Ragland tapped the screen again.

"Where is it in **me**?"

"Oh." Dr. Ragland spun his chair to face them. "Lower abdomen." He pointed, and Alex lowered his head to look at the spot indicated.

"Good, that's one thing normal about this, at least," Desmond said with a smile. "Shaun was tellin' me the Greek god Zeus got pregnant in his head and shit. Glad that's not happening to the Alex Zeus."

"Mm," Alex nodded, though he wasn't really paying attention to Desmond's words. "You think you could gimme a due date?" he asked slowly.

Dr. Ragland adjusted his glasses again. "Might be difficult, without a date of conception to work from."

"September 15," Alex said, not missing a beat.

Desmond gaped at him.

"What? I got a good memory."

"Oh." Dr. Ragland looked from Desmond to Alex and back, realization dawning on him. "I... You... Huh." He shook his head. "Pardon me. I'd assumed the virus-"

"Just randomly decided to reproduce itself, no sex necessary?" Desmond chuckled.

Alex joined in the chuckling. "Nah. I'm a lot more like a human than we thought, doc. It still takes two to tango."

"Huh." Dr. Ragland looked back and forth once more before continuing. "Well then, if it was conceived like a normal human pregnancy-"

"I wouldn't say it was 'normal'," Alex muttered.

Dr. Ragland appeared not to hear this. "... then the due date would be the normal nine months out. June 15th."

"Oh. Derp." Desmond laughed. "Guess we coulda calculated that on our own."

"But don't take that date as gospel," Dr. Ragland cautioned. "Given the circumstances, the gestation could be longer or shorter. It goes without saying that this aspect of Blacklight's biology is-"

"Terra incognita," Alex finished for him. He was peering closely at the image on the computer, tracing the small white ovoid with one fingertip. Barely perceptible within it was a smaller gray blob, little more than a line, really.

Desmond sighed gently and leaned against the wall. "God damn. Y'know, I kinda hope it's longer. So I can have more time to get used to the idea of being a parent." _Parent to a half-human kid, no less._ He shuddered a little.

Ragland stood up from his chair. "Are you two really sure about this?"

"Well, **he** sure is sure," Desmond said with a slight smile. "And he's Alex motherfucking Mercer, so what he says goes. I'm just along for the ride. I can't just let him go it alone, he'd be a terrible dad, y'know?"

At these words, Alex snapped his head up from the monitor. "What makes you think I'd be a terrible dad?"

"Well for one, you're calling the kid 'Little Shit', which isn't very nice."

"S'not like he can hear me," Alex huffed.

Desmond approached Alex calmly. "Plus you're kind of a, what was the phrase you used? Murderous beast?"

Alex smirked. "You're one to talk, Assassin."

"Oh, well played." Desmond smiled and put one hand on Alex's shoulder. "Hey, you're an Assassin too now, remember."

"Mm. Not really."

"Well, I'd call you a novice but I don't think you'd like that very much."

"Heh. Yeah."

Desmond's other hand drifted down to rest on his stomach, and Alex stiffened a little at the casual intimacy of the gesture. "We're a pretty weird family, huh? The Assassin, the Murderous Beast, and the Little Shit."

"Family," Alex said with a sense of wonder.

Dr. Ragland cleared his throat quietly. Desmond and Alex started; they'd almost forgotten he was there. "Well... do you need anything else from me?"

Desmond straightened up, blushing a little. "Um. Don't think so. We good, Alex?"

"Mm." Alex managed to tear his eyes away from the MRI image and look to the doctor. "Guess the three of us will be back later, then. Say next month?"

"Ah." Dr. Ragland scratched his head. "You may want to go somewhere else for prenatal care. I'm not really equipped, let alone qualified-"

"Sure you're qualified," Desmond interrupted. "You're the only Blacklight-ologist in town that doesn't want to kill Alex. Or re-kill him, or whatever."

"Look at this place, though." Dr. Ragland gestured around the dingy lab. "I don't even have an ultrasound machine, you'd have to sit through two hours in the MRI every time we need to take a look at the fetus."

"Mm," Alex grunted. "I do hate the noise that fucking thing makes."

"Come set up in the Assassin base, then. They've got all sorts of medical gadgets," Desmond said.

Alex's eyes went wide. "Yes!" he nearly shouted. "Perfect! Ha-ha! You will come and be there any time me or Little Shit needs you! Even if it's raining! Ha-ha!" He then whipped a hand over his mouth, seemingly shocked by his own outburst.

"You okay there?" Desmond asked him. "That was kinda more manic than your usual."

Alex sIithered his hand back down. "I... Heh. Would you believe, a mood swing?"

"Wow, mood swings, just like a normal preggo!" Desmond gave him a playful punch in the arm. "You're pretty damn human after all."

"Heh. Yeah."

"Except you get cravings for zombies instead of pickle ice cream."

They dissolved into a fit of giggles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, Dr. Ragland's fucking name looks all weird to me now. Thanks a lot, [semantic satiation](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Semantic_satiation).
> 
>  
> 
> [I did some legit Google-images research to find out what pregnancy looks like on an MRI.](http://images.radiopaedia.org/images/1642743/32c6241828d743c463325bb1359696_gallery.jpg)


	6. A Lonely Impulse of Delight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> don't you hate it when you're trying to talk about your relationship with your bae and some people start trying to kill you?
> 
> update May 17: welp, now there's a full-on sex scene in this. XB

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeeeeessssss beat elizabeth greene \o/

"Hey bae," Desmond purred, slinking up behind the object of his affection.

Alex turned his head back to give a quizzical look. "Bae?"

"Yeah, that's you, you sexy beast." Desmond sat down next to him on the edge of the roof and reached over to fondle his crotch. "You're so... uh. Umm?" He mashed his fingers harder into the jeans, brow quirking in confusion. "Where's your package?"

Alex looked off into the skyline. "Gets annoying during parkour and fighting and stuff," he said flatly. "So I morph it away when I don't need it."

"Huh." Desmond processed this for a moment. "I never considered the use of shapeshifting to avoid cock chafing, but I guess it makes sense." He pressed on Alex's crotch once more to confirm the Ken-doll blankness of the area before pulling his hand away. "Well. That's a boner killer."

"I am designed to kill things," Alex said with a soft laugh.

"True dat." Desmond's phone vibrated and he checked the alert. Nothing special, just the usual warning to avoid enemy patrols and shit. He put his phone away. "So, Mr. Lean Mean Killing Machine. Kill anything interesting lately?"

Alex grunted a negative. "Few Hunters. Nothing special."

"Those things are still popping up, huh?"

"Yeah." Alex leaned back on his arms. "How about you? Kill anything interesting lately?"

"Nah. No assassination missions for a while now. All quiet on the western front. We're just kinda sitting on our thumbs 'til something comes up."

"Mm."

They chillaxed there on the roof for a good while, Desmond watching the city bustle by below, Alex watching the clouds slowly cross the sky above.

Alex eventually sat back up. "Explain 'bae'."

"Uh..." Desmond scratched his head. "It's, y'know. Like 'babe'. But more hip."

"Hip," Alex repeated, lips popping on the P.

"Yeah. ...S'it all right I call you that? I mean, just in private?"

Alex shrugged. "I've been called far worse."

Desmond ran a fingernail across the asphalt of the roof. "So. The, uh... what we did the other day...."

"The experiment."

"Yeah." Desmond tried to meet Alex's eyes, but couldn't quite manage it, so focused instead on the tip of his nose. "Did you, uh, like it?"

Alex's pale skin flushed pink and he turned away again. "You were there. You observed my reactions. What do you think?"

"I think you liked it. I just, y'know. Wanna get a verbal confirmation."

Alex was silent a few moments. The wind whistled around them.

"I mean, yeah, you obviously came, or something like it," Desmond said, blurting out something, anything to fill the awkward gap in their conversation, "but I dunno if that means you actually **liked** it, I mean, I've heard people can cum when they're getting raped, not that I think I raped you of course, but y'know, maybe you were just experimenting 'cause I suggested it, maybe you regret it now or something-"

"I liked it."

"Or maybe you... What?"

Alex's piercing blue eyes were now staring straight into Desmond's soul. "Yes," he said firmly, "I liked it, Mi..." He barely stopped himself from calling Desmond by his surname. "I. Liked. It."

An irrepressible smile bloomed on Desmond's face. "You... liked it?"

Alex's face remained impassive, though still pink. "Are you stupid or something? I just said. Three times."

"All right. Good." Desmond rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, uh. D'you think you might wanna..."

Alex knitted his brows, waiting to see if the end of the sentence was what he thought it would be.

"...Do it again sometime?" Desmond didn't even wait for an answer before hastily adding, "It's cool if you don't, I mean, I know it was just an experiment to see if your virus body can even do that sort of thing, and we- we found out it can- **you** can, so, now that's settled-"

Alex silenced the babbling with a soft hand on his mouth. "There's no point in a successful experiment," he said quietly, and Desmond almost thought he detected flirtation in the rumbling voice, "if you don't try to replicate the results."

Desmond was absolutely speechless.

Alex saw sparkles dance in those deep brown eyes, and he slowly smiled. "Maybe adjust the parameters slightly, though."

"Adjust?" Desmond said, still muffled by Alex's hand.

"Yes. We-" Alex suddenly stopped talking and sprang to his feet, scanning the evening sky.

Desmond switched on his Eagle Vision to see what was up, but his field of view was suddenly blacked out when Alex wrapped a shield arm around him.

A spray of bullets started pinging off the hardened biomass and Alex said "We gotta move!" He didn't wait for a response, though, but just increased the size of the shield until it encapsulated Desmond's whole body.

 _Ho-oly shit this is creepy_ , Desmond couldn't help but think. _Glad I'm not claustrophobic._ He felt the shield-pod lifted up and hustled along, bullets still pinging all around. Then a massive explosive **wham** thudded through his body and he heard Alex make a pained noise.

"You okay out there?" Desmond asked, though he wasn't altogether sure the question carried through the shield.

"M'fine. Just an RPG."

" **Just** an RPG?!" Desmond yelped. "You got hit by a fucking R-" The sentence was cut off as his stomach lurched into a long freefall. The shielding biomass shrank closer around him, holding tight like a full-body seatbelt, and then Desmond felt-heard Alex's feet smack hard against the ground, and the restraints loosened a bit. He was zig-zag-jostled along for a while longer before the shield finally unformed back into its component tendrils and let him free.

They were down at the end of a blind alley, next to a jumbled pile of trash bags and discarded appliances. Alex was again disguised as the ugly military guy from the other day. The disguise was extremely thorough, for it even included the soldier's radio headset.

"Anyone see it?!" the headset crackled. "Anyone god-damn see it?!"

"Negative, Red Crown, I'm cold as ice. Zeus has slipped the net, over," Alex said into the mouthpiece.

A muttered "Son of a bitch," was the response, followed by, "Copy that, sir. Will attempt to reacquire target."

Alex tore the headset off and crushed it against the wall. "Go ahead, attempt your ass off."

"Are they stupid enough to fall for that?" Desmond asked. "I mean, you didn't even identify yourself, and they're just gonna trust you that he's gone? Or trust him that you're gone, or what-the fuck-ever."

Alex smirked at Desmond's pronoun confusion. "Soldiers aren't known for being smart. And if they were smart, they wouldn't want to mess with me." He shifted back to himself and looked Desmond up and down. "You all right?"

"I think so. Heart's pumping like crazy, but I'm still in one piece."

"Huh." Alex put a hand on Desmond's chest, right over the barely-contained thudding. They stood there, frozen in that posture, for a long thirty seconds as Desmond's heartbeat gradually slowed to normal.

Desmond broke the uncomfortable silence. "Thanks for the save, by the way."

Alex "mm"ed an acknowledgement. His eyes hadn't moved from where he'd laid his hand. "I'd forgotten," he said quietly.

"Forgotten what? That I can run away and hide pretty well myself? Yeah, well, that was an awful lot of gunfire back there, and humans can't take bullets like you can."

"No. This," Alex said, tapping his fingers on Desmond's chest. "What this feels like."

"Uh? Don't you-" Desmond felt Alex's chest analogously. "Woah. Okay, you... don't have a heart. Or if you do, it doesn't beat."

Ignoring this, Alex moved his hand up to Desmond's neck, to the steady pulsing of the artery there. "It feels..." His mouth hung open, and then he shook his head, pulled his hand back. "Sorry. Can't describe it." He met Desmond's eyes. "But I like it. I wish I still had it."

Desmond smiled. "You can feel my heartbeat anytime you want, bae." The still-strange term of endearment drew a chuckle. Feeling bold, he slid back Alex's hood and hooked an arm around his neck. "By the way, you're totally not 'cold as ice'. You're, like, thermonuclear hot."

"Really."

"Really. Which reminds me: Where were we before those assholes started firing on us?" Desmond leaned in to whisper in his ear. "You were saying you wanted to repeat that experiment?"

"With different parameters." Alex took hold of Desmond's shoulders and stared him in the face.

Desmond's heart began to race again. "You mean, like... the other way around?"

"Maybe," Alex said. "Or maybe just a change of locale." He slowly started melting away his clothes.

"Like right here?! Fuck, Alex."

"That's the idea."

"I..." Words failed Desmond. He flinched in surprise when he felt tendrils slithering beneath the waist of his jeans. "Hey! Hold up, man!" He grabbed the tendrils to halt their advance. "Dunno if you noticed, but there's a big pile of trash and shit here, which isn't really conducive to sexytimes."

"Oh." In the blink of an eye, Alex retracted the tendrils and redressed himself. "Right. Of course. Trash is... unpleasant."

"Obviously. Are you missing your sense of smell in addition to your heart?" Desmond snapped.

Alex turned his back on Desmond. "It's not missing. Just different."

Desmond detected a note of despair in those words, and he reached out to take Alex's shoulder. "Hey. Sorry. I didn't mean-"

Alex shrugged off the touch and stalked away down the alley.

Desmond followed close behind him. "Seriously, I'm sorry, I shouldn't've said that, or I shoulda said it nicer at least."

No response. Alex walked a little faster.

Desmond trailed along, turning the situation over in his head. _Guess his emotions aren't as bulletproof as his body. Dammit. That body._ His mouth twisted in a tight frown. _I don't have a lotta options for romance these days, what with living the secret Assassin life. Here's a super hot guy- has a few issues, but really, who doesn't?- and he was kinda into me, and now I fucked it up._

 

* * *

 

 

The sun had almost set by the time they were nearing the Assassin base. Desmond wanted to clear the air before they got back, so he spoke up again. "Hey, um. Sorry again, man." He stared at the grimy sidewalk as he spoke. "Really didn't mean to offend you. I'm still getting used to this. The whole, y'know, 'being friends with an ex-human' thing. Whup!" He didn't notice Alex had stopped walking until he ran right into him.

"Are you sure about that?"

Desmond couldn't manage more than a "Huh?"

"Are you sure?" Alex faced him again with an intense stare.

"Did I miss something here? Sure about **what**?"

Alex didn't answer at first. He reached out and laid a hand on the brick wall, inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"Are you feeling all right, man? You're going kind of spacey on me." Desmond swished down Alex's hood and snapped his fingers near his ear.

Alex grabbed Desmond's hand and held it firm. "Being friends," he said. "With **me**."

"Ooh," Desmond said, unable to stop himself from smiling despite Alex's serious expression. "Well, I sure don't wanna be your enemy." He felt miniscule motions trembling through the hand that held his own. "I mean, you seem like a pretty cool dude from what I've seen, so yeah. We're friends."

"Friends," Alex repeated, looking straight into his eyes.

"Yeah. Friends. Or friends with benefits, or whatever you want, bae."

Alex slowly mirrored Desmond's smile. "Whatever I want, huh?" He slid his free hand up beneath Desmond's shirt and whispered, "What if I want to be on top next time?"

Desmond felt the hand on his chest become a swarming mass, and his mind exploded with passionate possibilities. He answered the question by pressing forward into Alex, kissing him hungrily.

A sound, quiet but feral, rumbled from somewhere inside Alex, and he pulled Desmond even closer with myriad yearning tendrils. Desmond squeaked as one of his nipples was lightly pinched by the roaming feelers, and Alex grabbed at his parted lips with blunt-edged teeth, drawing a dribble of blood.

Desmond's sensibilities were all but lost to the sudden fire burning within him, but he managed to drag Alex along into a semi-hidden niche between buildings, and not a moment too soon, for the virus-man was again denuding himself. Desmond couldn't take the whole sight in this time, for he was still restrained by strong-soft tentacles, but he was able to run one hand through the glorious mop of black hair and cup the other around a firm cheek as their bodies ground together in the hot chill of the night.

Desmond couldn't even tell anymore what were fingers and what were viral tendrils, it all felt equally delicious, but some part of Alex now reached out to unzip his pants, erection bouncing free as boxers were tugged down.

Alex pulled out of the kiss, and Desmond tried to pull him back in, but then he was spun around and pressed up against the roughness of the wall. "Oh god. Are you gonna-"

"Relax," a cool voice whispered in his ear, fanning that fire inside him higher. "Relax, Desmond."

He tried his best to follow the advice as his heart churned with anticipation, desire, anxiety, and the memory of Alex's humble comment the other day: _"I wouldn't want to hurt you."_

 _Oh god, a guy who picks up cars and crushes skulls like it's nothing is about to fuck my ass, this could be bad, really bad, I could literally die, oh holy shit-_ Desmond's thoughts shivered to a halt as Alex kissed a line down his neck and wrapped a hand around his length, cool palm against hot throbbing shaft.

"Slow and steady," Alex murmured. He lapped at Desmond's neck again, tonguing the carotid artery like a vampire about to bite.

"Yeah," Desmond managed to eke out. "Slow and ahhh..." he gasped when a small feeler entered him and probed about lightly. His hips moved jerkily as it tickled him from inside.

"Want more?"

"Oh god yes," Desmond panted, resting his forehead on the wall, grateful for its support.

"Sure?"

"Yeah, yeah, but..."

"But what?" Alex sounded genuinely uncertain.

Desmond swallowed. "Just remember, I'm only human. Don't hurt me, man."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Des." Alex let out another of those incredibly sexy chuckles. "That's against the Creed."

Desmond felt a squirt of some viscous liquid from the tentacle inside him, and then it was widening, wiggling, throbbing, rubbing. "H- h- holy hell, that's ah- amazing," he barely managed to say through the intensity of it all.

"Amazing", Alex echoed, exploring up and down Desmond's cock with his fingers to mirror the way his tendrils were exploring inside.

The stimulation was almost too much for Desmond to bear. When was the last time he bottomed? He couldn't remember; it must have been too long ago. And it had definitely been nothing like this. This. This was a truly unique experience. There came another jarringly chill squirt of Blacklight-lube as the probing feelers pulsed and thickened even further, inciting immense pleasure alongside a fresh ache of pain. "Oh god, oh god, oh god," he mumble-chanted, eyes watering.

"You okay?" Alex asked, his voice an unbelievably tender whisper in Desmond's ear.

Desmond forced his breathing to slow and deepen.

Concerned by the lack of response, Alex started to withdraw.

"Don't!" Desmond yelped. He groped behind him for Alex's arm and held it tight. "I'm fine." He took another shaky breath. "I'm fine."

"You're in pain." Alex's fingers were so so soft as he wiped away Desmond's tears with his free hand.

Desmond felt the tendrils pull out completely, leaving him empty and wanting. "No, god... Sorry, Alex. I just... it's been a while... since anyone's-"

"I should be the one apologizing. I don't want to hurt you," Alex reiterated.

"You're fine. It's not hurting me any more than another human would." Desmond turned around, feeling his face redden. "Look, we've- we've started now, and I can't just stop. I need to get off." He looked into Alex's eyes, ran a hand down that smooth sculpted chest. "And you said you wanted to top this time, and I want to let you. So let's go." He turned back to face the wall again, jutted his bare butt out. "Just start out slow and steady, like you said, and I'll be fine."

Alex put his hands on Desmond's shoulders and gave them a brief squeeze. "All right," he said, then after a moment, added, "...bae?"

Desmond chuckled. "Hurry up, I'm getting blue balls here, man. Go ahead and ahh, yess..." The tentacle was inching back in. He closed his eyes and sighed with contentment.

The rational part of Alex's mind held concern for Desmond's well-being, but his baser instincts were being flooded by tantalizing stimuli: a powerful salty smell emanating from the human, the warmth of his body inside and out, the sounds he made as the tendril extended, forked apart, pressed gently further.

_he likes it- he was hurt- he enjoys- he is weak- we are strong- we should not hurt- this taste- so human- he is weak- he is warm- not like us- unnatural- dominate him- intimate- devour him- no, he is friend- he is weak- he is good to us- taste him- enjoy him- please him- but keep him safe- good- together- ours-_

Desmond's mind was overwhelmed as well, by every thrilling touch of Alex's feelers, and he had to work hard to dredge up his language skills from the depths of his mind, but at last managed to summon the sentence, "Enough tentacle shit, use your cock already."

Alex grinned and rested his sharp chin on Desmond's shoulder. "Oh, but I am."

Before Desmond could ask what the hell he meant, an answer was provided for him. The separate threads of biomass in his rectum coalesced together into a solid and familiar shape. He breathed through gritted teeth at the wild sensation as Alex worked his way deeper. "Oh man. Your cock is... fuck!" he said, and it echoed slightly around them.

"A fair assessment," Alex said with a chuckle, gripping Desmond's shaft once more. "How does it feel?"

"Big. Meaty. Ohh," Desmond let out a euphoric moan and rolled his hips. That Blacklight lube was working like some sort of magic: the stretching pain was over and now he ached to feel Alex moving inside him.

As if he was a mindreader, Alex chose that moment to begin rhythmically thrusting.

"Yes, yes, oh yeah..." Desmond didn't care if anyone heard them, this felt so good, he had to say something out loud to acknowledge each blissful motion. "Oh. Fuck. Yes."

"You're good," Alex breathed into Desmond's ear, and he quivered at the praise. "So warm and wet and alive." 

_soft- hard- slick- wet- good- continue- ours- make more- infect- no- friend- keep safe- protect- enjoy- feel- fuck-_

"Oh yeah," Desmond gasped, "yes, unh! I... yes!" He couldn't compose full sentences anymore; Alex's otherworldly cock was hitting him right in that deep spot that acted like an off switch for his brain. His legs were going weak and he only remained upright because Alex kept a firm hold on him with arms and tentacles as he gradually quickened the tireless pace; plunging deep, stroking firm, tongueing all over his face and ears and neck and occasionally dipping a tendril down under his shirt to explore his chest, his back, his everything, Alex needed to know every centimeter of this human body-

Assassins didn't exist. New York didn't exist. There were no secret societies. No virus outbreaks. No nothing. All that existed for Desmond right now was himself and Alex, and the indescribable way they were fucking. He was so close, so close to cumming-

When he felt a cool ribbon run along the ridge of his spine as another one pinched teasingly at a nipple, he gasped out a "Alex! Oh fuck..."

"Fffuck," Alex moaned back in his ear.

And that was it, that word in that husky voice sent Desmond tumbling off the edge. "Oh- nngh! Ahh!" He intended to say "Alex" but couldn't get the name out before he lost his voice to the intensity of his climax, and his whole body stiffened and jerked in the virus-man's strong arms, fire rushing through him and spilling out hot and wet all over their entwined bodies.

And Alex, entwined within and around him, felt every beat of his heart and every molecule of his breath, and a huge toothy grin of insane pride spread across his face. He breathed deeply, taking in the smell of satisfaction in the air.

_success- human is spent- he enjoyed- join him- together- finish- so close-_

As Desmond shuddered through the final seconds of his orgasm, Alex stole a few more frantic thrusts, until he again felt that tantalizing loss of control, that surge of synapses, that exquisite high, like taking down a helicopter with a single well-aimed chunk of debris, only ten million times sweeter.

He closed his eyes and sighed contentedly, then caught Desmond before he sank to the ground boneless.

"Jesus," Desmond panted. "You... you fuck good, Alex."

"Mm."

Desmond rubbed the side of his head, blinked fogginess from his vision, then gasped and started to panic. "Oh crap, we didn't condom! Did you go off inside me? Am I gonna turn-"

"Calm yourself," Alex said coolly. "I reabsorbed my emission."

"Reabsorbed?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Thanks." Desmond wiped away his own emission, pulled his boxers and jeans back up. "That's really weird you can do that."

Alex grinned again, his own clothes re-materializing. "With everything else I can do, this one thing is 'really weird'?"

Desmond shrugged. "Well, when you put it that way, I guess not. Now we better get back to base soon, or they'll think something happened to us."


	7. Bring The Noise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex gets an ultrasound.  
> Stealth crossover.  
> Janet ships it.  
> And Desmond still can't believe this shit is happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FFnet peeps are too uptight, man. They be all like " _Great another one of these crossovers. Seriously why can't people make an actual Assassin's Creed Prototype crossover story? Not that I have anything against homosexuality but it's getting annoying._ " and " _Not only is the story breaking the rules, but its also incredibly disturbing. You have been reported._ "
> 
> but I'm not bothered about the haters, because all the DA and AO3 people be loving this shit ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> the chapter title doesn't make a lot of sense but whatever

"Wake up." Alex poked Desmond's arm.

"Mrmabrgle."

"Wake up, Miles." Another poke.

"Grblegah." Desmond flicked away Alex's hand. "Don' call me Miles."

Undeterred, Alex poked him yet again. "Desmond. Bae. Whatever. Just get up. Or don't, and I'll go get Little Shit ultrasounded without you."

Desmond cracked his eyes open a smidge. "Agh. Is that today?"

"November 11, yeah."

"Aghh." Wiping a spot of drool from the corner of his mouth, Desmond forced himself up out of bed. "Gimme two minutes to get dressed, 'kay?"

"Two minutes. Go."

 

* * *

 

"Good morning, Alex, Desmond." Dr. Ragland shook hands briefly with the latter- the former's hands were firmly couched in his pockets, as usual- then nodded at a young man in the room with them. "This is Paul, he'll be helping me out with your care."

Paul waved timidly and said, "Hi." His voice was on the squeakier side, and Desmond figured he was nervous. _Hell, I can't blame him. First time meeting Alex Mercer, I was nervous too. And that was before he was allegedly pregnant._

"Hey," Alex said back, nodding slightly.

"Um. Go ahead and take a seat." Paul gestured to the padded exam table, and Alex did as suggested.

"So, Alex," Dr. Ragland said. "We're about eight weeks in, I believe?"

"Mm."

"How are you feeling?"

"Not much different than usual. Least not today. The symptoms come and go."

"He's consuming like crazy," Desmond put in. "Yesterday alone, he had ten of [those fast fat zombie guys."](http://i.imgur.com/t4sul8U.png)

"Eight," Alex corrected.

Desmond let out a tiny sigh. "Eight, ten, does it matter? Those can't be healthy for you."

"I needed lipids. They're a very good source of lipids."

Dr. Ragland cleared his throat. "I'm sure they are. All right, I'll turn it over to Paul."

The nurse swallowed and turned on a computerized machine in the corner of the room. "Okay, uh, Mr. Mercer, can you lay back and take off your jacket and shirt?"

Desmond chuckled. "Well, no, he can't really take off-"

"Shut up, Des," Alex said as he swirled away the clothing on his upper body.

Paul blinked at the sight. "All right. That works." He picked up a small device attached by a cord to the machine. "I am going to do an ultrasound," he said stiffly, as if trying to convince himself of this fact. "Oh. First I need..." He put down the device and picked up a bottle of gel. "First I need to put this on your skin there. Fair warning, it's a little cold."

Alex reclined, smirking. "Go ahead. I'll be fine."

"Unless that stuff has water in it," Desmond added, giggling.

"Shut **up** , Des."

Paul froze in the middle of opening the bottle. "You're allergic to water?"

"No, Desmond's just being an idiot as usual!" Alex snarled, then composed himself a little bit calmer. "I'll be fine with your stupid gel. Just get a move on already."

Paul removed the cap, then took a second to steel himself before reaching over and squirting a blob of the gel on Alex's abdomen, then spreading it around a bit.

Desmond really noticed now, for the first time, the slightest outward swell of the pale flesh. "Woah. You..."

Alex turned to face him. "What now?"

"You're... you're actually starting to," Desmond hesitated a moment, "Y'know. 'Show'." He made air quotes around the word.

Alex turned his gaze to the tiny proto-bump. "Guess I am."

"Right. Let's get a looksie inside, then." Paul picked back up the Doppler transducer and put it to Alex's stomach.

Desmond's hands went clammy and he closed his eyes against the sight as his mind grasped at straws. _There's still a chance he's not really pregnant, this still might all be a big mistake, there's no way Alex is having a baby..._

"Umm." Paul moved the transducer around. "Not really seeing anything here."

_He can't find the baby, right, because there isn't any baby, that's not a baby bump, he's just been consuming a lot lately, it has to go somewhere doesn't it, even if he doesn't have a digestive system..._

"A little further down," Dr. Ragland advised. "That's where I found it before."

 _...and there's no way he has ovaries, so he can't really be pregnant, there's no way that'd happen, he can't have gotten pregnant, there's no way there's no way there's no way_...

"And there it is," Dr. Ragland said, amazement in his voice. "My, my."

Desmond's eyes flew open of their own accord, and he saw it.

A grayscale image on the computer monitor.

A rounded blackness with a hazy white shape inside.

An eerily familiar shape.

"Holy crap," Desmond said.

"Ditto," said Paul, goggling at the monitor. "Mr. Mercer, Mr. Miles... That's your baby."

Desmond looked back and forth from the monitor to Alex. "Holy crap," he said again. "This is for real."

"Indeed," said Dr. Ragland, "and I see there's been some real growth since the MRI."

"You're tellin' me! It was just a little squiggle before, and now it's grown a head and arms and legs and everything," Desmond said, marveling at the monitor.

Alex shrugged. "Well, I've been feeding the Little Shit, so of course he's grown."

Paul made a weird face. Desmond noticed. "Yeah, he calls the baby 'Little Shit', I know, but whatcha gonna do? Oh, that reminds me." He turned to Dr. Ragland. "I wanna get your input on somethin'."

The doctor nodded. "All right, but bear in mind, pregnancy is very much not my specialty."

"Heh, nah, I'm not asking you as a doctor, I'm asking you as, um, a person of color, I think the term is these days."

"Uh," Dr. Ragland said, not sure where this was heading.

Desmond forged ahead quickly with his question. "Would it be, y'know, inappropriate for us two white guys to name our kid 'Deon'?"

"Uh..."

Before Ragland could manage a response, Alex frowned. "You saying Deon's a 'black name'? Racist."

Desmond raised his voice at the accusation. "Hey, I'm not being racist! I'm tryna be racially sensitive! I don't wanna be, like, culturally appropriating or whatever!"

Alex rolled his eyes. "It's half Blacklight, isn't that close enough to black?"

"Uh, no! That's completely different!"

Ragland put a hand on Desmond's shoulder. "Calm down, you two," he said with a smile. "As a card-carrying person of color, I give you my permission to name the child whatever you want."

Desmond exhaled. "Okay. So, Deon Miles."

Alex was still frowning. "Why not Deon Mercer?"

"Oh, right. Deon Mercer-Miles, then."

"Doesn't sound half-bad," Paul opined. He seemed more relaxed now. "What about for a girl's name?"

"Holy crap, it might be a girl." Desmond fell into the bedside chair. "Wait, is that possible?" He looked around at the others. "I mean, can male plus male equal female?"

"XY plus XY could make XX or XY," Alex said, staring at the ceiling. "But that equation doesn't apply here. Viral DNA has no sex chromosomes."

"Oh, right," Desmond said. "I keep forgetting you're technically asexual."

Alex tilted his head and gave him a look. "We disproved that, didn't we?" He punctuated the question by taking hold of Desmond's hand.

Heat radiated up from the hand through Desmond's arm and entire body. "Uh, yeah, guess I made a poor choice of words there." He cleared his throat, fought back the rising memories of their various erotic escapades, and changed the subject. "So! Dr. Ragland and/or Paul! Is it a boy or a girl, then?"

The ultrasound image shifted around as Paul moved the transducer back and forth. "Hm. You're not far along enough yet to tell. However, you are far along enough for **this**." He clicked a switch on the machine and the room was suddenly filled with fuzzy noise.

"What's that?" Alex asked.

"Take a guess," Paul said. Underneath the slight static, a rushing and continuous _whoosha-whoosha-whoosha_ slowly became evident.

"Oh." Alex's eyes were now wide and glistening. "It's... a heartbeat." His mouth twitched into a smile.

"Mm-hm," the nurse nodded.

"Wow." Desmond smiled as well. "Baby's got a heart. Takes after me, I guess."

"I didn't expect that," Alex said, creeping a hand over his stomach, near the Doppler.

"Well, he is my kid too, y'know."

"Mm."

"Or she." Desmond stared at the wavering ultrasound image.

"Mm." Alex shifted a little on the exam table.

The room fell silent for a minute as they all listened to the hypnotic rhythm.

 _whoosha-whoosha-whoosha_ - _whoosha-whoosha-whoosha_ - _whoosha-whoosha-whoosha_

"Pretty freaky sound, huh?"

"Everything about this is 'freaky', Desmond," Alex said.

Desmond nodded. "Our whole fucking life is freaky, come to think of it. In the grand scheme of things, I guess this is almost normal."

"Oh my," Dr. Ragland said.

Desmond and Alex looked at him and said "What?" simultaneously.

"Take a look." Dr. Ragland pointed at the monitor. A few swirls of motion were faintly visible.

"Holy crap. Tentacle baby."

"Little Shit takes after me too, huh."

Desmond turned to stare at Alex. "Can you feel that?"

"No."

"Well, baby's still pretty small. Just a few inches or so long as of now," Paul said, finally turning off the ultrasound machine. "You should feel him moving by next month."

"Mm," Alex said. "Are we done here?" He didn't like being laid out on an exam table all too much. It reminded him of that first night in the morgue. And that was not a night he liked being reminded of.

"Yes, Alex, we're done," Dr. Ragland said. "Same time next week, then?"

"Sounds good to me," said Desmond.

"Oh, almost forgot." Paul handed Desmond a glossy paper. "Here you go."

"What's- Oh. A printout of the thing. Wow."

Alex had by now wiped away the gel and reformed his clothes. "Little Shit's not a 'thing', Des-"

"Obviously that's not what I meant!" Desmond interrupted him. "I mean the ultrasound thing, geez!"

 

* * *

 

When Desmond logged into Hephaestus, there was an email from Rebecca awaiting him.

Hey there Dadmond. So, is Alex as much of a monster in the sack as I'm thinking he is?

He groaned quietly and deleted the email without comment.

"Des-mond!" a woman's voice called, sing-song. "I'm ba-ack!"

He sprang up from his bedside desk. "Hi Mom. How was Canada?"

"Lots of rain, lots of Abstergo. All in all, it wasn't too bad, though." Janet Miles then pursed her lips and looked serious. "So, Bill said you have something to tell me?"

"Oh. He, uh, he didn't tell you?"

Dark blonde curls waved back and forth as she shook her head.

Desmond fidgeted his fingers. "Welllll, it's kinda good news and bad news."

"I'll take the good news first."

"Okay. Here goes." He took a breath and looked into her soft eyes. "You're gonna be a grandma."

"Ay!" She turned a little pink and flew a hand over her open mouth. "This is... sudden. I didn't even know you were dating anyone."

"Well..." Desmond scuffed his shoe along the floor. "...It wasn't planned."

"Oh, mijito." Janet wrapped her son in a loose hug. "These things happen."

He returned the hug, basking in the warm familiarity of it. When she at last released him, he gave her a slanted smile and said, "We're keeping it, though."

"And 'we' refers to you and...?"

"A... Alex."

"Well, I can't wait to meet her, Desmond."

He snorted out a laugh. "You've met him already."

"I've met..." Janet blinked in confusion. "Him?"

"Yeah. Here's the bad news. You're gonna be grandma to a freaky half-human half-virus baby."

"Vir... us? Oh Díos mio." She turned pink again. "You mean Alex Mercer."

"Yeah."

"Díos mio."

Desmond sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. "I know, I know, you guys all kinda hate him, but he's not a bad person, he's just-"

Janet laughed. "Oh, mijito, of course I don't hate him. I'm just surprised."

"I was surprised too, Mom." He rested his head in his hands. "I always figured being gay I didn't have to worry about knocking someone up. But then I had to go and sleep with the one exception to that rule."

"Do you love him?" Janet asked quietly.

Desmond looked up. "What?"

"Do you love him?" she repeated. "And will you love your child? That's all that matters to me."

Desmond turned the question over in his mind. _Do I "love" Alex?_ "Uhh. I like him. But 'love' is..." He scratched his head. "You know how he is, right? It feels weird to use that word with him."

Janet smiled and nodded. "Yes, I suppose I understand that. 'You're happy together', is the meaning I'm aiming for. ...And the child?"

"Ummm. I'll take care of it," Desmond said. "I mean, I don't got a choice in the matter."

"Let me tell you something, Desmond." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Being a parent is... It's sort of like being an Assassin. It's not always easy or fun. It's scary sometimes. But it can be very rewarding as well." She smiled again. "It's a wild ride, but I think you'll handle it well."

Desmond chuckled. "Yeah, it'll sure be a wild ride. Especially with this kid. Lemme show you..." He got up and brought over the ultrasound printout. The image was grainy but more than clear enough. "See, it's already got tentacles, Mom!" His voice cracked a little. "That means it can probably do claws and hammerfists and all the shit Alex can do." He dropped the photo onto his desk. "And what is it gonna eat?! Do we have to grind up Infected into baby formula?"

Janet picked up the photo. "You said half-human, half-virus?"

Desmond nodded despondently.

"Well... maybe only half of Alex's... traits will be passed down?"

"I really hope so, Mom."

"What, you don't want Little Shit to be just like me?" Desmond snapped his head up to see Alex in the doorway, grinning. The virus-man nodded a perfunctory greeting to Janet.

"Honestly? No, I don't want him just like you."

"Thought you liked me."

"I do, but imagine if you were a little kid! If you got mad at your dad, you might consume him, or throw a tantrum and destroy a bunch of shit."

"Don't worry. If anyone knows how to soothe Blacklight into submission," Alex said, slinking closer, "it's you, bae." One hand caressed Desmond's cheek sensually; the other slipped into the back pocket of his jeans.

"Dude, my mom is **right here** ," Desmond said with a quiet blush.

Janet giggled. "You two are just adorable. Ohh, I remember when I was pregnant; my sex drive went through the roof! I was all over Bill aaaall the time!"

Desmond's blush intensified. "Moooom! I don't want to hear about your sex drive please! Especially while I was **inside you**!"

"You know, I bet Alex may be having the same thing!"

"Oh yes, Mrs. Miles," Alex rumbled. "I think maybe I am." Desmond felt tendrils beginning to coil around his thighs and torso.

"I think I better leave you two some privacy! Don't be too loud, all right?" Janet pinched their cheeks and then exited Desmond's bedroom, shutting the door firmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the frick frack (as my homie HG would say) is in the next chapter now, so look forward to that >:{D wow I chose a weird emoticon there
> 
> Oh hey I have a tumblr now.
> 
> Well I had one many years ago before it became popular.
> 
> But now I have one I may actually use.
> 
> I couldn't think of a better url than [DADMOND MILES DOT TUMBLR DOT COM](http://dadmondmiles.tumblr.com/) (just plain DADMOND was already taken by an inactive)
> 
> Ask me shit! Ask Dadmond shit! Ask Grampa Bill shit! Ask my OCs shit! Send me ALL OF THE ASKS.


	8. And You Already Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex becomes the sex fiend he is always depicted as in fanart.  
>   
> Desmond isn't afraid of being consumed, but he is a little afraid of commitment.

Desmond stared numbly at the door of his bedroom. "Mom?" he squeaked. "I can't believe you just-"

"Forget her," Alex said, the mad grin still on his face. "Focus on me." He took hold of Desmond's chin and looked piercingly into his eyes. Two fingers palpated just behind his Adam's apple, enjoying the steady bound of bloodflow through the vessels there.

 _Him and his fucking heartbeat fetish, god damn._ "Okay, I'm focusing on you, Alex. Now what?"

Alex chuckled. "Don't play dumb. You know what's on my mind." The tendrils around Desmond's torso wiggled- with anticipation, he imagined. "You're the reason it's on my mind. It's all you, bae."

"Really."

"Yessss," Alex said, drawing it out into a long sensual hiss. "You. You unlocked my sex drive. And knocked me up to boot. And now..." He paused a second, deciding what words were best. "Now I've got... this urge flooding my body. Need to satisfy it."

"Reeeaally," Desmond repeated with a sly grin. He ran a hand through the suave dusky-brown of Alex's hair and leaned close for a kiss, but was suddenly shoved backwards onto the bed by two strong hands and myriad little tentacles.

"I do not need kisses. I need to feel you inside me," Alex declared. His clothing disappeared with a soft _whoosh_ as he straddled Desmond atop the sheets. "So let's get right to it."

"Okay, but us humans need foreplay most'a'the time, man."

Alex put on a pouty face, which may or may not have been genuine. "Is seeing me naked not enough?"

"Well, usually by the time you're naked, I've already w-" This sentence was cut off when Alex leaned down and ran his tongue briefly around Desmond's ear. He shivered and twitched, melting like an ice cube in an espresso as the cold warmth tasted him.

"You shouldn't need foreplay, Des-bae, when your partner is 'thermonuclear hot'," Alex crooned, inventing a nickname on the fly. "Or am I not 'thermonuclear hot' anymore with this new development?" He jutted his little bump out against Desmond's flat abs.

"N- no, you're- you're still hot," Desmond managed to say between rushed pants, squirming under Alex's considerable weight.

"Good," Alex whispered in his trademark bass. He rubbed a finger down Desmond's flushed cheek. "You better like me pregnant, because you made me that way, don't forget." He held Desmond's wrists down and licked his ear again.

"Y- yeah." Desmond's heart was pounding, and the air was thick with something spicy and primal. Little ribbonlike tendrils were flickering up under his shirt. A throaty grunt escaped him as Alex palpated his crotch through his jeans.

"Can't assign all the blame to you, though. Blacklight had a part in it too. It excels- **I** excel- at absorbing genetic material. So when this," he gave the cock a little squeeze and Desmond let out another obscene noise, "put all those juicy sperm cells full of human DNA in me... Millions and millions of them..." Alex grinned insanely wide. "Really, it's a miracle we're only expecting the one Little Shit."

Desmond was barely aware of the words Alex was saying. All he was hearing now was that damn voice. If it was physically possible to just fuck that voice, he'd do it a hundred times. As far as foreplay went, the voice in his ears, the hand on his cock, and the tendrils on his chest were doing a pretty bang-up job. "Okay, you got me horny, Alex," he said with a weak smile, "but you gotta let me get my pants off before we can get down to business. Us humans can't just poof our clothes away."

Alex chuckled as Desmond struggled to get a hand free, and released one of his wrists. "Right, let's go then. Where are your condoms?"

Desmond didn't respond, just gasped and frantically unzipped his jeans, because screw getting naked, that would take too long, he was ready to go **now** , the tendrils on his chest were like feathers made of sex-fire, so pleasurable it was almost painful.

"Condoms, Des-bae," Alex purred, grabbing his chin to make him pay attention. "It's all too possible a Little Shit Number Two might germinate if we don't use one. So tell me where you keep them."

"Dresser," Desmond gasped, fumbling down the waistband of his boxers. "Top drawer, in the back."

A whipfist snapped across the room and returned after a few seconds of scrounging. Alex tore open the packet with his teeth and nimbly rolled the condom onto Desmond's twitching cock.

"Hurry up, god, Alex, you maniac," Desmond muttered under his breath, then "Oh Jesus fuck!" when tendrils started exploring further into his pants, coiling around his testicles. "Ow, careful, ease up the death grip there!"

"Oops," Alex said, shaking his head playfully. "They've got a mind of their own sometimes."

"Well, try to-aaah, ohmygod," Desmond moaned in ecstasy, forgetting all ball pain as he was welcomed into the familiar embrace of the exotic asshole. Slick tentacles stimulated every inch of his shaft while rough hands clasped over his thumping heart and more tentacles ravaged his sack (a bit more gently than before, though).

Alex began to rock back and forth, humming in quiet delight, a freshly peaceful smile painted across his face.

"Y'like that, huh?" Desmond said in a husky murmuring pant.

"Unnh. Yesss," came the breathy reply.

"Aw yeah." Desmond arched upward, contorting his body to penetrate deeper into Alex's. "Yeah. You're hooked on me, aren't you? Me and my human cock?"

Alex answered with a single word: "Delicious." His hair was a mess as he bobbed faster, thrusting Desmond in and out with wild abandon, absolutely lost in his autonomic need for gratification.

"Yeah... that's the cock that knocked you up, bae... Unf, you're mine now..."

"Mine," Alex echoed vacantly.

"Yeah, you're my... aah, my li'l sex monster!" Desmond was too far gone to worry about whether this dirty talk was weird or not.

"Mmph." Alex leaned over, inhumanly flexible, to plant a kiss on Desmond's lips, then inhaled deeply. "And you're... unh," he grunted and ground his hips downward for a few more thrusts before regaining the ability to speak, "You're my juicy Ass-assin."

"Damn straight."

"Heh, no." Alex chuckled through another thrust. "Not 'straight' at aahnnghf!"

The last word became a growly roar, and Desmond suddenly became aware he'd been tugging at Alex's cock when it throbbed with a wave of heat in his hands. The virus-man's face drew tight and his skin nearly exploded with undulations of pleasure.

Desmond barely had any time to be surprised by the coal-colored seed spurting out and writhing across his chest and neck, for in another moment, the squeezing vibrations of ass-tendrils scintillating through the thin barrier of latex became too much for him, and he came as well, hissing out the name "Ahhh-lecksss" in a long crescendo.

Alex shuddered, clenching onto Desmond tightly with ass, hands, legs, and innumerable long strands of sensitive biomass. The effect was like being wrapped in a heavy, heaving, carnal net. Desmond was immobile, claimed, as the prey of a spider, but- and this may have been the sex haze in his brain- he nevertheless felt at ease. He trusted the tendrils would only hold him close and would dare not devour him; for if they did, then where would Alex turn the next time he needed a good fucking?

At last Alex released his prey and slid down beside him on the bed. "Ahhh. Good," he said, eyes closed, extremities twitching. "Goooood."

"Thanks. Glad you liked." Desmond rolled to one side and threw an arm loosely over Alex. He lacked a heart, but evidently still had lungs and the need for air, for his chest was moving up and down in slow heaves, and Desmond was soothed by this feature of normality.

Alex reciprocated with an arm under Desmond's neck and around his shoulder. "You good?"

"Hell yeah."

"Good." Alex seemed to have a unusually limited vocabulary right now.

Desmond smiled, held him closer, and listened to the rough and rhythmic breathing until he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

He was awoken by a persistent knocking. There was no trace of Alex or the sex they'd just had, save for his still-unzipped pants. The bedsheets were slightly rumpled, but spotless. _Nice of him to clean up after himself,_ Desmond thought as he zipped up, got up, and opened the door.

It was his father. "Ah. Hello."

"Hi. You need something?"

"I, ah. Ah-hm." William cleared his throat. "I suppose we should talk."

Desmond moved aside to let him in. "About what?" he asked, though he had a pretty good idea.

William didn't come in right away. "Well... You and Mercer."

Desmond rolled his eyes. "We're a thing. Get used to it."

"Sorry." William stepped into the room, rubbing his head. "This is... This is hard for me."

Desmond snapped the door shut and glared. "Hard for **you**?! I'm the one who got hit with the surprise fatherhood thing!"

"Well..." William gave him a look of awkward condescension. "Didn't you pay attention during sex ed on the Farm?"

Desmond choked with laughter. "Was this part of the curriculum? Was Blacklight even around back then?"

"Still!" William fumed. "I thought you were smarter than this! Mercer is a deadly virus! And you..." He trailed off into a shudder.

"God, Dad!" Desmond covered his face. "I already got this lecture from Shaun the other day! I used protection, okay, but it didn't quite protect everything because his body is so insane! So can we just leave it at that, please?!"

William exhaled. "All right... all right... I suppose this is far from the worst that could have happened from... interacting with him." He interlaced his fingers behind his back. "Anyway, that's in the past. We need to talk about more immediate concerns."

"What, him being knocked up isn't an 'immediate concern'?"

"More tangible concerns. Such as your living quarters."

"Oh." Desmond's palms went clammy.

"I can arrange to have you moved into, ah..." William's chin twitched. "A family-sized suite."

"Shit."

William narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Sorry," Desmond said, fidgeting. "It's just... Moving in together is huge, y'know."

"Well, you two are 'a thing', as you put it, and-"

"It's not like I wanna up and marry him!" Desmond snapped. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor. "It was supposed to be casual."

"Casual or not, there's a child in the picture now."

Desmond sighed. "Right. And I gotta stick around to help take care of it. Make sure it learns how to act at least somewhat like a normal person." He sank into his chair and rubbed one temple. "God, just when my life was starting to get back under control after all that Animus shit, now I'm gonna be gay parenting a half-human baby."

"Well..." William began, then seemed not to know how to continue. He gave Desmond's shoulder a brief and limp pat.

Desmond chuckled and looked up at him. "Hey, I wonder if the kid will inherit my eagle vision, or Alex's thermal vision, or some weird combo of both."

"I couldn't begin to guess, Desmond." William cast his gaze around the room. It had been many centuries since Assassins had been required to take a vow of poverty, but most dens still remained sparse and straightforwardly furnished, since they of course lacked the Templars' vast wealth. All that Desmond was allotted was a chest of drawers, chair, desk, and bed. It was this last that William now pointed to. "Ah... Normally the family suites have a double bed, but since it's Mercer, perhaps- Oh, never mind." He dropped his hand back to his side. "You two did bring back that couch for him, so I suppose he does sleep."

"Well, not exactly 'sleep' sleep," Desmond said with a slight shrug, "but something like it." He remembered the day they'd found the couch, during a lazy parkour practice a few months back, up on some rooftop, next to empty pizza boxes, an old tube TV and a big ol' trashbag. Marijuana odor completed the scene.

_"Somebody was havin' a good time up here," Desmond observed with a grin. "Light up a spliff, chow down on junk food, and forget all about the infection crisis."_

_"Mm," Alex hummed, and then kicked the side of the couch. "Sturdy. I like it. Let's bring it back to base," he said, and without even waiting for reply, lifted the couch over his head._

_Desmond briefly tried to talk him out of it- "What if the dude who was using it comes back?"- but as usual, once Alex Mercer had his mind set on something, there was nothing to be done._

_And so they returned to base with a couch smelling not-so-faintly of pepperoni and pot._

_"Uch," Shaun gagged, holding his nose, "I bet there's a million different germs on that thing!"_

_Alex just calmly deposited the couch against the wall of the main room and sunk himself contentedly into the lumpy cushions. "And now there's a million and one," he said with a smile._

Desmond was brought back from his remembrance by his father saying something. "Oh, sorry, Dad, I didn't quite catch that?"

William frowned slightly. "I was saying, it's just as well you don't want to marry him, because you can't really."

"Sure I can," Desmond shot back. "I mean, I could if I wanted to, 'cause New York has marriage equality."

William sighed. "Be that as it may, you'd still need to both go in person to the clerk's office and give them all your details to be granted a marriage license. Address, social, et cetera."

"Oh. Right." Desmond laughed. "Sometimes I forget we're all wanted men. Plus I bet their records show Alex as legally dead, and that'd probably cause a couple snags in any marriage attempt."


	9. Abrupt Relocation, A New Dispensation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stupid pre-romance slice-of-life awkwardness shit, feat. mpreg

And so it was that, a couple of days later, Desmond trekked through the long halls of the Assassin base, carrying a cardboard box overflowing with his clothes, laptop, and other belongings.

 _Three-oh-one, three-oh-two... here we go, three-oh-three._ Desmond balanced his stuff in one arm and opened the door with his other hand. He walked in and set down the box with a soft clunk on the countertop. Compared to the cozy little studio he'd been in up 'til now, the family suite, with its separate kitchenette, bedroom, and everything, felt way too large. He went to put his toiletries in the bathroom cabinet and when he returned to the entryway, Alex had appeared from nowhere.

"Hey." Desmond's greeting was casual as sandpaper in his throat.

"Not bad," Alex replied, rolling one shoulder in a shrug.

"You mean the apartment?"

"What else?" Alex turned to gaze out the sliding glass door to the balcony. "Nice view."

Desmond made a sound of vague agreement and went to stand behind him. Outside, the midday sun shone from their right and sparkled off the Triborough Bridge. For a minute or so, they just stood there, staring out at the semi-clouded sky.

Eventually Desmond went back to unpacking his possessions. When he finished the job, Alex was still staring out the window, hands limp at his sides.

 _I wouldn't have pegged him for the cloud-gazing type of guy_. _But then again, I don't really know much about him at all._ Desmond mulled this thought around for a bit before breaking the icy silence with a random question. "Hey, you ever think about leaving Manhattan? Leaving New York?"

Alex didn't move his gaze as he answered, "Where would I go?"

"Well, wherever you want. There's a whole big world out there."

"Don't care," Alex said. "My whole world is here." He lifted a hand and placed it against the glass, blocking his view of the bridge. "Dana. Ragland. The Assassins. You."

Desmond wondered a microsecond on the significance of himself being listed separately from the Assassins, but before he could funnel this wondering into a question, Alex turned away from the balcony and stared right through him. "Plus, with Little Shit on the way..." He let the implication hang in the air.

"Oh. Right." Desmond rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, I forgot you're... y'know."

Alex bluntly supplied the word Desmond still had trouble verbalizing. "Pregnant."

"Yeah, that." Desmond sat down in one of the two chairs of the suite's tiny dinette set. "Can't tell from looking at ya, not with all those layers."

Alex morphed away his outer jacket and his hoodie, leaving just a thin white button-up shirt. "How about now?"

Desmond's jaw wobbled as he took in the sight. The bottom of the shirt was untucked in an I-don't-give-a-fuck manner, and fell classily over the teeny spot of plumpness in Alex's otherwise fine-toned torso. Up top, a few sparse chest hairs peeked out from between the open first button. "Hot damn," Desmond couldn't help but say. "Pregnant or not, that's a good look for you."

Alex lifted one arm and regarded himself with a wary eye. "Really."

"Yeah, really. How come you're always covering that hot bod up?" Desmond asked, getting up and reaching out to stroke Alex's oh-so-enticing collarbone. "Damn, bae..."

But Alex stiffened and pulled back from the touch. "Don't. Not now."

Desmond frowned. "What? Didn't you say you're like super super horny these days, from being knocked up?"

Alex frowned harder. "No. I did not say that."

Desmond tried to force a laugh. "Maybe not in so many words, but-"

Alex formed his full outfit back on and pocketed his hands. "Look, I'm just... not in that mood right now."

"Okay, okay," Desmond acquiesced, taking a couple steps back. "So, uh... I don't suppose you have any stuff to move in? Since you don't wear actual clothes, and et cetera."

"No. Yes!" Alex said, eyes sparking suddenly. "My couch."

"There's a bed big enough-"

"I want my couch." Alex turned and headed out of the apartment.

Desmond followed. "Right, let's get somebody help carry it in."

From deep in his chest, Alex sighed. "Don't need help. You should remember that much about me, Desmond."

"Well, you said yourself you're feeling weaker since, y'know."

"Since you got me pregnant," Alex spat, and it echoed sharply in the stairwell as he tromped noisily downward. "Still far stronger than you or anyone else here."

Desmond hustled to keep up. "C'mon, it's not gonna kill you to lemme help."

Alex let out an irritable huff. "Fine. You can help if you insist."

They reached the large rec room and together picked up the faded orange-beige couch, though Desmond could tell Alex was still doing most of the work. Then came the frustrating task of trying to coordinate their carrying to bring it back to the third floor.

"Ugh. Why are you going that way?" Alex growled, tugging his end of the couch away from Desmond.

"Duh! That's where the stairs are!" Desmond retorted.

"Heh." Alex smirked. "Stairs. Nope."

"Whadd'ya mean 'nope'?"

"I got a better plan."

"Excuse me?"

Alex tugged the couch harder, and Desmond lost hold of it completely. "Go back upstairs. Open the balcony door," he said, musclemassing his arms and lifting the couch overhead.

"What?! You can't just throw it up, you'll break it, or break a window, or something!"

"Not gonna throw it. Gonna carry it."

"Ohh," Desmond said, a little smile forming as he understood Alex's plan. "I forgot you can climb and carry shit at the same time."

"You sure forget a lot of stuff," Alex muttered as he flung open the front door.

"I'm only human!" Desmond called after him, then, two beats later, "By the way, did you forget I'm part of the Assassins?"

Alex turned and gave him a deer-in-the-headlights look.

"Earlier. You said the Assassins are here and I'm also here. Isn't that, like, redundant?"

"Well. You're... special," Alex said, voice muffled somewhat. Then he dashed outside before Desmond could inquire further.

 

* * *

 

Exactly two minutes later, Alex had gotten the couch placed haphazardly against one wall of their apartment and thrown himself down on it with a sigh.

A few moments after that, he sensed someone standing over him, and opened his eyes to see Desmond with a gleeful grin plastered across his face.

"What."

"I'm special," Desmond said. "Heh."

Alex's mouth twitched and contorted strangely before he managed an actual response. "Y-yes. You are."

Desmond's grin grew even wider. "Alex Mercer thinks I'm special." He sat down and put an arm around Alex's shoulders. "Hey, I think you're special too. And not just 'cause of the Blacklight superpower shit."

"Mm. Whatever." Alex closed his eyes again.

"And not just 'cause you're having my gay blowjob baby, either," Desmond added, poking Alex's slightly thickened waist.

"Shut up, Des."

"Shutting up."

Alex's mouth drew tight in something between a smile and a frown, and he subtly shifted position, leaning further into Desmond's lazy embrace. "Speaking of... You're worried about him having my powers."

Desmond couldn't deny it. "Well... yeah."

"I evolved my various abilities over time. Most likely the same will go for Little Shit."

"Oh. Huh. So you think it'll just start out as a normal baby?" Desmond felt very relieved. "That's good."

"Not exactly normal. You saw the ultrasound."

Desmond chuckled. "Well, okay, a normal baby with tentacles sometimes, but as long as it's not able to claw my face off until it grows up, then I think I can deal."

Alex reopened his cold blue eyes. "Getting real sick of this 'it' business," he seethed.

"Whoops, sorry." Desmond tightened his one-armed hug. "Him or her, okay? You know I don't mean it like that, bae."

"Yeah. I know." Alex relaxed back into him with a soft smile. "I know," he repeated in a whisper.

 

* * *

 

Desmond was scrolling idly through his email inbox when a bellowing howl came right in his ear.

[" **Where is all the silverware?!** "](http://xonetruedemonx.deviantart.com/art/PCLD-Where-is-all-the-silverwear-278358399)

"Shit!!" Desmond yelped, then spun in his chair to face the angry virus-man. "Alex! Don't fucking do that!"

Alex just stood there, breathing heavily and creepily, several tentacles looming over him like ominous black branches. The whole effect would have been terrifying to someone who wasn't his boyfriend/fuckbuddy/whatever.

Desmond blinked. "Wait..." He poked at the objects he'd just noticed clutched in Alex's arms. "Bananas... and Nutella?"

Alex growled and hugged the foodstuffs tighter, as if Desmond were trying to steal them away. "Silverware," he repeated.

Desmond laughed. "Now who's forgetful? Dude, you don't eat! You literally **can't** eat, you don't have a stomach or anything to handle human food! You've told me this about a dozen times!"

Alex closed his eyes and grimaced. The looming tentacles shrank a bit. "Damn you, Desmond."

"Uh. Sorry? What did I do?"

"Isn't it obvious!?" The jar and bananas were flung to the floor. "Your stupid Little Shit is giving me cravings."

"Oh my god." Desmond laughed again, more heartily this time. "Ha-ha-holy cra-ha-hap. Fuckin' priceless! You got cravings but you can't eat! Ha ha ha-" The laughter was cut short when a tentacle suddenly choked around his windpipe.

"Not funny, Miles."

Desmond squeaked out a small "erh" sound and Alex released him. "Gah. Haaah. Sorry dude, but sometimes us humans can't help but laugh!"

Alex pouted and moped his way across the room to throw himself on the couch again. "Fucking humans."

"Again, sorry dude." Desmond picked up the bananas. "Well, uh. Have you tried eating them? Consuming them? Maybe that'd work."

Alex grumbled and turned over to face the wall.

Desmond peeled a banana and dangled it over him. "You never know unless you try. I mean, you tried sex and-"

"And look what happened." Alex stuck out his small belly and smacked it.

"But you liked the sex part."

Alex grumbled again.

"C'mon." Desmond waggled the naked banana. "It can't hurt ya, right?"

A slow tendril snaked out from the shoulder of Alex's jacket and prodded the banana.

"Try it, man," Desmond urged. "I mean, if it turns out you can get nutrition from food instead of humans and zombies, then that's a lot easier for all of us, isn't it?"

The prodding tendril split into several smaller ones, which widened into flat ribbons of red-black that enveloped the banana. Desmond just barely managed to pull his hand away in time.

"Hm," Alex said as the encapsulated banana withdrew into him. "Water and sugars. Barely any amino acids or proteins. We can't live on these."

"We? You mean you and the kid?"

Alex was silent a moment before replying. "Sure. Me and him."

"Or her."

Alex suddenly sat up straight on the couch and looked keenly at Desmond. "Elizabeth."

"Uh. What?"

"If Little Shit is female. Elizabeth."

"Oh." Desmond blinked. "You mean like-"

"Greene, yes."

"But she-"

"It wasn't her fault," Alex said, cutting off what he knew Desmond was going to say.

"Look, I dunno all the details, but I'm pretty damn sure she wasn't a mindless zombie," Desmond countered. "She was as much in control of her actions as you, Alex! You freed her, and she tried to-"

Alex jumped to his feet and clamped a hand over Desmond's mouth. "She was a good person at heart," he said quietly and deliberately. "I know she was. I know her. She's in here." He tapped his head.

Desmond's brows wrinkled.

"Her whole life was taken from her," Alex continued, his features growing grimmer. "They **used** her, Desmond, as a **test subject**. You can appreciate the horrors of that, can't you? Imagine being used by Abstergo, not for days or weeks, but for years. Decades."

"Mrm," Desmond said with a slight nod.

"She lost her sanity, as anyone would. She was no longer herself. The thing I fought was not the true Elizabeth Greene," Alex finished, then finally uncovered Desmond's mouth.

Desmond took a deep breath. "Umm, right, so... Elizabeth. Elizabeth Mercer-Miles," he said, feeling out the name. "I guess it's... okay?"

"Hundred times better than 'Athena'," Alex said with a smirk, then whipped out another tendril to grab the rest of the banana bunch, peels and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> headcanon where Alex sometimes uses plural pronouns for himself because of all the multitudinous minds massing inside him


	10. You're All Talk/Good Night My Someone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably the first time that Cheap Trick and Shirley Jones have appeared side-by-side in any way, shape, or form

"Hello there, Desmond," William said cautiously, looking up from his laptop and mug of coffee as Desmond and Alex entered the cafeteria that evening. "How's... things?"

Desmond smiled and looked sideways at Alex. "Well, we found out he can eat food."

"Oh. Huh." William didn't know how to respond to this, so he just took another sip of coffee.

"Food is shit compared to living flesh, though," Alex said.

Desmond jabbed him in the side with an elbow. "Dude. Don't say things like that."

Alex frowned. "It's only the truth."

"Still, it sounds creepy, man!" Desmond shot back. "And if you hate food so much, why'd you devour all those bananas so readily?"

Alex leant stiffly against the wall. "Don't know. Little Shit's stupid craving. Nothing makes sense anymore," he said, the words a little sluggish, a little forlorn.

Desmond lifted Alex's chin with a gentle finger. "Look, maybe bananas just aren't your thing."

"What is 'my thing' then?"

"Maybe a nice juicy steak?"

William coughed. "Ah, we don't have steaks. They're expensive."

"There, you see," Alex said, waving a hand at William and glaring at Desmond. "It's not gonna work. I need to **consume**. And soon." He grimaced. "I can practically feel Little Shit sucking my reserves dry."

Desmond sighed. "Fine, whatever, go absorb some zombies." Alex turned to leave, but Desmond took hold of his shoulder. "Just... don't stay out too late."

Alex pulled away. "What are you, my mother?"

Desmond's mouth went dry. "Well, I'm, like, your boyfriend or something, aren't I?" he said haltingly.

"Boyfriend," Alex repeated, tasting the word's connotations. Unnoticed in the background, William was sweating profusely.

"Well, I dunno. I thought about 'baby daddy', but that sounds really wrong." Desmond managed another smile. "I mean, you got a better idea for what we should call this bizarre relationship?"

Alex stared into Desmond's face blankly for several seconds. "I'm going out," he finally declared.

"Get back before dark," Desmond called after him.

"Don't get your panties in a twist; I can see in the dark."

"That's not what I'm-" Desmond started to retort, but Alex was already outside, the door slamming shut behind him. "Ugh. Can you **believe** this guy, Dad?" He slumped down at the table across from his father.

William coughed again. "I still can't imagine how you two ever... got together, in the first place."

"Well, I... if you really wanna know..."

"Please. Explain."

"Um, well... you assigned him to train with me after he joined and stuff, and after a while I, uh, I noticed he was... kinda hot," Desmond mumbled, not making eye contact.

"He was 'hot'," William repeated in disbelief.

"Well, yeah. Still is, actually."

William had a look of wide-eyed confusion, as if silently asking, "Are we talking about the same guy?"

Desmond sighed. "You're just not able to imagine a dude being hot because you're straight."

"But he's not human," William said, putting a special emphasis on those last two words.

"I like him anyway, Dad. It's not his fault he's not human."

"Actually, if he hadn't released the virus-"

"Give him a break, that was years and years ago!" Desmond snarled. "You accepted him into the Brotherhood, so that means you forgave any bad shit he did, right?"

William sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Still... What do you **see** in him, Desmond?"

"Well, he's nice," Desmond said, then added, "When you get to know him."

William sipped at his coffee again.

"Seems to me that you just see him as a strategic asset, as a weapon-"

"Which he is."

Desmond groaned through gritted teeth. "But he's more than that, okay? I know he's not human, but he's a **person** , goddammit, and he can form relationships with other people if he's given a chance."

"A relationship with **you** , though."

Desmond looked down, picked a fleck of dirt from under his fingernail. "...I like him, Dad. And not just 'cause he's hot. He... I dunno, I can't explain it, and I know you don't get it, but I like him." _Plus he's amazing in bed, with the tentacles and stuff_ , his brain supplied, but he was definitely not going to mention that out loud.

"Have you even had a relationship before Mercer?" William asked, hurling the question across the table like the sharpest of daggers.

"I have, yeah! Lots of relationships, okay?! Why does that matter?!" Desmond shoved off from the table and stood up, eyes blazing. "We're boyfriends, okay, we're into each other! I know your straight-ass self can't comprehend it, but we are. Yeah, maybe it's not perfect and maybe it's not love, but can't you just leave us alone about it?!"

William held up his hands in surrender. "All right. All right. I just... I don't want you to get hurt."

 _Does he mean physically or emotionally?_ Desmond wondered, but either way, it didn't matter. "I can take care of myself, Dad, I'm a grown-ass man. Besides, **you're** the one that moved us in together. Why'd you do that if you don't approve of us?"

"That was Janet's idea. For the child's sake," William said, tight-lipped.

"How considerate of her," came a voice unexpectedly, and they both jumped. Alex was back, a freshly energized aura about him. "Little Shit isn't due for quite some time, but we appreciate it nonetheless."

Desmond blinked. "You already ate? That was fast."

Alex grinned. "You're surprised that I'm fast? Yes, Desmond, I already 'ate'." He leaned close and Desmond detected a meatiness faintly tinging his breath as he spoke. "Didn't want you worrying your pretty little head about us." Then he swooped in closer with a clumsy kiss.

"Mrph," Desmond protested the blood-scented show of affection, and pushed him away. "Dude, uh, not in front of my dad, okay?"

"All right." Alex swiveled his eyeballs to point at William, though his words continued to address Desmond. "Then let's go share our bed. You did mention it's large enough for both of us, didn't you?"

* * *

"You should really stop hitting on me when my parents are around," Desmond said as he eagerly stripped off his clothes. "Just 'cause we're out doesn't mean you should shove our sex life in their faces."

Alex shot him an evil grin. "But it's fun to fuck with Bill's head."

"Dude, he already hates that we're togeth-"

"So I heard," Alex interjected. "Which is why I wanted to fuck with him."

"Whatever." Desmond kicked his clothes into the corner of the room, then turned to Alex with warm and sparkling eyes. "Let's get to it, then." He stepped close and put his arms around Alex, trailing fingertips down his back.

But Alex slithered out of his grasp, away from the hot and hungry nakedness. "Sorry. Don't want to."

"What?" Desmond's fingers closed spasmodically on the empty air. "But you kissed me; you said 'let's share-"

"Told you already. I was just fucking with Bill."

"Dammit," Desmond spat under his breath, then, "Is this gonna be a recurring thing from now on? We only have sex when **you** want to?"

"You implying we should have sex when I don't want to?" Alex retorted.

Desmond gave Alex a shove, though his sturdy bulk was barely nudged by the gesture. "Dumbass, of course I didn't mean it like that!"

"Sure sounded like it."

Desmond shot him an icy glare and it was returned in kind. "Look, sorry," he said, more out of obligation to end the argument than out of real remorse. "Let's just go to sleep." He rummaged in the clothing pile for his boxers and eyed the bed as he pulled them back on. "What side d'you want?"

"Does it matter?"

Desmond shrugged. "I dunno, I don't have a preference, I'll take whatever side you don't want. Y'know, since you're the one that's pregnant."

Alex's mouth twitched into a smirk. "Well, well, look who learned a new word."

"Don't be a dickwad. I'm tryna be considerate, all right? Just want you to be comfortable and shit."

"Comfortable." The smirk widened. "What is this, the Virus and the Pea? It would take a lot more than a lumpy mattress to discomfort **me** , Desmond."

"Okay, whatever." Desmond threw himself down and pulled a sheet up to his chin.

Alex copied his motions, but slower and gentler, so as not to wreck the bed with his strength.

They lay there for an awkward minute or so. Then Desmond got up again and went to turn off the light, but just as he was reaching for the switch, a tendril zipped in front of his hand and did it for him. "Oh, right," Desmond said with a small laugh. "That's handy. Or tentacle-y, rather."

"Just get to bed," Alex commanded in a dull monotone. "Not in the mood for your stupid jokes."

Desmond slid back under the sheet. "You gonna sleep in your clothes?"

"It's not 'sleep' and they're not 'clothes'."

Desmond gave Alex a backhand smack on his hooded head. "Fine, asshole. You gonna do your Borg regeneration cycle thing with your biomass formed into that outfit?"

"Borg." Alex's pupils flitted back and forth in the darkness for a few seconds, then he said, "Huh" and let out a chuckle.

The familiar sound of amusement warmed Desmond's heart, thawing the chilly mood between them. "So you know about Star Trek, I see," he said with a smile.

"I've consumed a few Trekkies over the years, yes."

"Consumed, or assimilated?" Desmond asked cheekily.

Alex nodded. "The parallels are... interesting."

"Yeah, there's a hive mind and everything, and..." Desmond suddenly wondered if this line of conversation, comparing Alex to an intergalactic nemesis, might be making him uneasy. "But you- you're a good Borg, Alex. Like if Seven of Nine was a hot guy."

An inscrutable "Mm" was Alex's only reply.

"And I don't think Borgs ever had sex. So there's that."

"Mm."

Desmond decided to abandon the topic. He closed his eyes and settled into the unfamilar bed, trying to fall asleep. Alex's steady breathing and the soft whooshing of wind outside seemed to blend together into a tranquil kind of background noise.

"This feels strange," Alex said to the void after a long while.

"Buh?"

"Being in bed with you, but not having sex."

"You wanna?" Desmond asked without thinking, jarred back from almost-sleep at the mention of sex.

"I told you no."

"Oh. Okay." Desmond yawned. "Just checking. Thought maybe you changed your mind."

There was another interminable quietude. Then Alex spoke again. "Last time..." he began slowly, almost shyly. 

"Last time we had sex?" Desmond prompted.

"Was I... too aggressive?"

Desmond answered with a noncommittal "Eh."

"Be honest." Alex turned to face him in the near-darkness. A thin beam of pale moonlight shone through the window onto his face. "I don't ever want to hurt you. Or r-"

"It's fine, Alex," Desmond cut in, not wanting to hear the ugly word "rape" fall from those lips. "Really, it's fine, I enjoyed it. I mean, yeah you were really forward about it, but that's how a lot of gay guys go about things."

Alex looked slightly away.

"And besides, I... um," Desmond swallowed. "I've been pretty forward towards you at times. Remember when you were just sitting minding your own business and I came up and groped your groin?"

"I do remember," Alex said flatly.

"That was pretty shitty of me, wasn't it?" Desmond felt a knot of disgrace form in the pit of his stomach. "I mean, I barely even knew you, we'd only fucked the one time, and I was just, I dunno.... Just thinking with my dick, I guess."

Alex let out a "Hm." It was half "Heh" and half "Mm."

"I mean, you didn't even have your dick... formed at the time, but it was still skeezy for me to just grab you there," Desmond said, mumbling a little. "I don't think I ever apologized for that. So... I'm sorry." This time it was genuine.

"I wasn't bothered, but apology accepted nonetheless."

"So we're cool?"

"We're cool," Alex said with a faraway look in his eyes. "We... I'll let you know the next time I'm up for sex."

"All right. No pressure." Desmond gently pulled back Alex's hood and trailed a hand through his hair. "I mean, I understand virus libido is probably way different than human libido. And human libido is pretty unpredictable at times, so... yeah."

"Mm," Alex said, closing his eyes and scooching closer, leaning his face against Desmond's shoulder. A heavy rumbling sound emanated from him; ominous yet adorable, like the purr of a lion.

Desmond smiled. "Cuddling like this is fine too. I didn't think you were much of a cuddler, though."

Alex rumbled again, then said, "Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. Lately, I... don't feel like myself sometimes. Guess Little Shit is throwing my body for a loop."

"Well, yeah, preggo hormones might be affecting you," Desmond said hesitantly.

"Viruses don't have hormones."

"But you said yourself: Blacklight isn't like other viruses. And there's some humanity growing inside you now." Desmond lightly patted Alex's tummy.

Alex squirmed but didn't outright protest the touch. "Rrrgh. Humanity."

"You got a problem with humanity?"

"It's just so... complicated," Alex moaned.

"Yeah, I know," Desmond said, the sentence becoming a yawn.

"Go to **sleep** already."

"All right, all right." Desmond gave Alex's shoulders a gentle squeeze. "You too. Both of you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Oh yeah, Desmond loves the tentacles.](http://creed-prototype.deviantart.com/art/Oh-yea-Desmond-loves-my-tentacles-474559953)


	11. Death and Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond is a noisy fuck.  
> The phrase "Templar shiz" is used.  
> A less-stealthy crossover character appears.  
> 

Viruses, as a general rule, did not sleep; did not dream. To sleep and dream, an organism needed some semblance of consciousness and memory, and most viruses were simply strings of nucleic acids carrying out automatic chemical instructions.

Not so with Blacklight, though. At least, not the anthropomorphic aggregation of Blacklight that was currently rooming with Desmond Miles. This virus was different; so different that it- **he** \- arguably wasn't even classifiable as "a virus" anymore. This virus had a definite consciousness and memory, if not a "brain" as such.

From time to time, he had to enter a dormant state to let his strange body repair itself fully, especially after periods of intense exertion or serious injury. And during these dormancies, there were dreams. But not the same types experienced by most humans; not subliminal fears and desires manifesting as surreal episodes of falling, being at school naked, or whatnot. No, Alex's dreams were a mashup of memories, hyper-real replays of events he or his victims had experienced.

Sometimes the memory-dreams were quite upsetting. But tonight... tonight they were very nice.

_"Alex..." Desmond's breath was tangy-sweet, flowing out all over Alex's face and up into his nostrils.["Stop staring..."](http://dadmondmiles.tumblr.com/post/122906149568/sassycheesynachos-im-in-for-alex-being-horribly) He brought one hand up to cover Alex's startled blue eyes, wrapped the other around his waist. "It's creepy to kiss with your eyes open."_

_Alex squirmed. "Don't like kissing. Not good at it," he mumbled against the corner of Desmond's mouth._

_Desmond laughed. "You're plenty good enough. And I'm sure you'd be **great** if you tried."_

There was a flash of darkness as the memory jolted, skipping ahead.

_"Ah! Right there. Ngh!" The steady flow of gasped words and breathy grunts was music to Alex's ears. He devoted his mouth to pleasuring Desmond's cock more so he could hear those precious sounds continue._

_"Oh yeah, mmm... ah! Holy.... mff..." Desmond tugged at Alex's hair, trying to pull him up. "Guh, I'm gonna, oh god- any second now-"_

_"Do it," Alex said, though the words were garbled._

Another jolt, another skip.

_Alex smacked his lips, licked away a stray blob. "Interesting."_

_Desmond was lying exhausted on his back, chest heaving slowly. "Oh god, Alex. That was... amazing."_

_How was he supposed to respond to this? "...Thank you?"_

_"No, thank **you**. Geez. And you... you swallowed."_

_"...Yes."_

_"I thought you... can't eat?"_

_Alex smirked. "I consume, Desmond. Flesh or semen, it's all the same. It's all genetic material."_

_Desmond groaned and rubbed his face. "God, you're weird."_

_"Mm." Alex lifted Desmond up and hugged him close. "Weird, and still horny. Payback time," he whispered, his entire body throbbing with want._

Crimson swirls clouded Alex's vision as the scene faded away, and he "awoke" with the lingering hunger of unfulfillment. _No! Fuck! Need-_ Desmond's scent, even more intense and intoxicating in actuality than memory, crashed over him and he leaned close over the sweet human, nearly grabbed hold of him right then and there, but- _No. Wait._ He stopped, forced himself to take slow, measured breaths. _He needs rest. We must- **I** must wait._

Alex pulled back from Desmond, gazed down at him, long limbs tangled in the bedsheet, tan skin vibrant and seductive against the drab yellow fabric. His eyes traveled down one arm, puzzled through the enigmatic tattoo, finally arriving at slightly curled fingers. His lips parted to show a hint of a smile as he recalled how amazingly multitalented those fingers were. _They are merely fingers, and cannot become anything else... But they are very **very** good fingers. And same goes for the rest of his body...._

He sat up against the headboard, pondering. _Why is it I never felt this desire before he propositioned me? How is it I feel this desire at all? I was created to destroy; to sow chaos; to be a weapon of war. Why should I possess the human need for bodily companionship?_

He put out a single thin tendril and touched Desmond lightly. In response, the sleeping man let out a mumbling coo.

_It's you. You sparked this unexpected evolution, starting from that day you revealed your perverse attraction to me. Ever since then, these... **feelings** have sprouted and taken me over._

A familiar feeling in Alex's gut soon served as a reminder that sexuality wasn't the only thing Desmond had sprouted within him.

_hunger- growth- cells dividing- differentiating- need sustenance- protein- calcium- iron-_

"All right already," he grumbled to the incessant urge.

 

* * *

 

 

A chill wind rustled the sheet over Desmond's nearly-naked body. He quaked with shivers and was awoken by his own chattering teeth. "Fuck. Cold as a fucking **fucker** ," he slurred. It surely hadn't been cold as **any** type of fucker when he'd gone to sleep last night with only a single bedsheet and a pair of boxers. How the hell was it so cold now? Desmond's brain was 98% frozen at the moment, so he didn't recall the chat he'd had with Clay, where they'd discussed the outbreak affecting New York's climate. Apparently, Manhattan hadn't even had a winter at all in 2008 due to strange particulates in the island's sky; a "Greene-house effect" Clay had punningly called it. Even after several years had passed and the zombie population had been decimated, the weather remained severely unpredictable.

At any rate, it was cold as a fucking fucker right now, and once Desmond finished rubbing crud out of his eyes, he saw why.

The curtainless window was boldly open to the biting November weather.

Desmond groaned and got out of bed to close it, cursing the coldness of the hardwood floor as well. "Some fucking prank..." he muttered. "Come in my room and open my window when it's thirty fucking degrees out. Who the fuck-" But then a different line of inquiry occurred to him as his brain started to process his surroundings. " **Where** the fuck am I?"

This wasn't his room.

Or wait.

He blinked, memories percolating back into his consciousness.

Yes... it was his room.

It was and it wasn't.

It was his room **and** Alex Mercer's room.

Desmond rubbed his face with both hands. "I... live with Alex now," he said under his breath to solidify the concept. _Wow. That'll take some getting used to._ Then he smiled, remembering something else: the reason for their cohabitation. _Well, it's not near as weird as me having knocked him up, and I'm kinda almost used to that already. Almost._

Speaking of knocking, a sharp series of them banged against the glass at that moment, and Desmond spun around on instinct to face the sound.

Of course it was Alex, his familar form silhouetted in front of [a cirrostratus sunrise](http://i.imgur.com/vGwXAV1.jpg). Desmond slid the window open again. "Hey there, bae. Out for a midnight snack?"

"Mm-hm. Fuel for the fetus." There was the slightest of sibilance on that final consonant.

Desmond cracked another smile. "Fetus, huh? That's a step up from 'Little Shit'." Alex just shrugged, awkwardly returning the smile. The expression warmed Desmond's body from the inside out, and he was emboldened enough to go on and say, "I bet it's not too long before you level up to actually using the word 'baby'."

At this, the smile wiped itself away from Alex's face and was replaced with his usual stoic rockiness.

Desmond gave him a lighthearted jab in the shoulder. "C'mon, I know you like to act like this super badass tough guy all the time, but you can't deny your soft side's in there somewhere."

Alex made a dismissive "Mm" and stepped closer. "Sex. Let's go."

Desmond let out an "Oh!" as soft tendrils materialized and began fondling his bare chest. The feeling was enough to make him instantly forget all talk of fetuses. Alex was only a few degrees warmer than the chill air still lingering in the room, but those few degrees made all the difference in the world right now. He instinctively wrapped his arms around Alex, drawing him closer, feeling the clothes dissolve away under his eager touch.

Alex pressed his lips into the side of Desmond's neck, breathed the word "Yes" into a small hollow he found there.

"Oh yes, god yes," Desmond echoed, pulling him along, guiding him to the bed, feeling flushed and hot and oh-so-ready. Though he had no idea what he was ready **for** right now, he was sure they would figure something out, but for now it was enough to have Alex all over him, touching and tasting and sliding and probing and gasping-

**TAP TAP TA-TAP TAP!**

At the "shave and a haircut" knock rhythm, they both froze: Desmond with his legs wrapped around Alex's shoulders, and Alex kneeling with his nose at Desmond's crotch.

"Hey-o!" chirped Rebecca, her voice loud and clear even muffled by doors. "You two up and about?"

"Uhh no!" Desmond squeaked. "Definitely not!"

"You sure sound like you're up," she said.

"We're, uh..."

"Lemme guess. You're not decent."

Desmond could hear the grin in her voice. "Whaddya want?" he demanded.

"There's some Templar shiz going down, so you two need to tame your raging boners long enough to get to the situation room."

Alex let out a heavy sigh, and Desmond's hips flinched at the sudden rush of air, since the mouth that sourced that sigh was currently right on the fly of his boxers. "Shit, Alex," he hissed, fingers curling in the bedsheets. "Guess we gotta, unh, postpone this."

Alex peered up at him from under messy bangs. "Do we really gotta?" he whispered back.

"Yes, you do!" answered Rebecca, whose hearing was apparently much keener than they'd thought.

 

* * *

 

"All right everyone," Shaun said to the assembled group, "I'm well aware this is a bit early in the morning for some, but I haven't pulled you out of bed for nothing. Yes, the New York Templars have been rather on the quiet side of late, but I've been picking up some chatter that seems to indicate they're planning something big, trying to flush out our location." A soft murmur passed through the room. "Quite obviously, we want to prevent that happening."

"Specifics, Mr. Hastings, and quickly," William said, gesturing for him to skip the needless introductory bloviating.

"Right." Shaun brought up a map of the island on the big screen and started marking it up with his laser pointer. "This is where the magic happens." He circled a military base in the western Financial district. "And by 'magic' I of course mean 'meetings led by one Sergeant Neil Shotwell', who's apparently gotten some tipoff about the Brotherhood now being partners-in-crime with Zeus." He gave Alex a twitchy, corner-of-his-eye glance. "Communications we've intercepted this morning indicate Shotwell's about to launch a search sweep of our quadrant of the island in order to pinpoint our location. So, our objective is twofold: take out Shotwell before he's able to launch said sweep, and determine who tipped him off in the first place."

"Now, Alex." Shaun turned to face him directly. "I believe your, erm, skills, would be of great help in this operation." He sounded suddenly less confident than before. "If you're up to it in your, eh, current condition?"

Alex's face hardened. "I haven't become some shrivelly little wimp," he growled, digging his fingernails into the table. "I can handle it."

The beginnings of a dour mood descending over the room were halted when Desmond touched Alex's arm lightly and told him in a half-whisper, "Hey, be chill, they know you're not weaksauce just 'cause you're pregnant."

"They don't act like it," Alex hissed back. "Fucking nine weeks in and I'm already being treated like some delicate flower."

"C'mon, don't take it as a slight against your manliness, they're just concerned about the kid." Desmond flashed a brief smile.

"Little Shit will be perfectly safe."

"You sure about that?" Dana asked.

"It's a basic infil-consume-exfil, like I've done near a hundred times, Dana," Alex said tersely. "No danger unless I get spotted and shot at. Which I won't. Trust me, I can do this sort of thing a lot better than any of you."

Shaun's eyes flashed. "Oh so now you're better than us, are you?"

"At disguises and at getting information from people's brains, yes."

There was a short silence, and then Desmond asked, "Can you still do disguises?"

Alex glared at him. "Yes. Why not?"

"I mean, if you turn into a dude, a dude without a uterus or whatever you got going on in there,” Desmond waved his hand to vaguely indicate the anatomical area in question, “then where would the baby go?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Disguise is only superficial. Little Shit inside me won't be affected in the slightest."

"You sure?”

"I have an extraordinary level of control over all of my body. Including the... ‘uterus or whatever’."

"You couldn't control the actual ‘getting pregnant in the first place’ part," Desmond pointed out after a beat.

Alex chuckled and nodded. "True. Perhaps I could have, but the possibility wasn't even on my horizon. Plus, I was... distracted by how good you were making me feel." The warmth of remembered satisfaction crept into his voice as he spoke.

"Woah, TMI, bro," Dana said.

Rebecca snorted derisively. "How the hell is that 'TMI'? All he said was Des made him feel good, he didn't go into lurid detail about it."

"Ah-hem!" William said loudly. "Can we focus back on the agenda, please?"

"Yes, let's." Shaun adjusted his glasses. "So it seems Alex, pregnant though he may be, is the one for this mission."

Desmond raised a hand. "What about those detector thingies?"

"Those are all too easily disabled," Alex sighed.

"What if there's Blacktox?"

Shaun facepalmed. "Unless they've come out with a new version I'm unaware of, it's called **Bloodtox**."

Desmond dropped his hand back to the table, a little embarrassed by the mistake. "Cut me some slack, I haven't had my coffee this morning. So okay, Bloodtox, what if there's Bloodtox?"

"I don't think they've got Bloodtox at this facility, but we'll send a couple people with him in case we're wrong," William said.

"But what if-"

Alex stopped Desmond's next objection with a heavy hand on his shoulder. "I'm doing this mission, Des."

"But-"

It was Shaun who cut him off this time. "Cripes, Desmond, don't be one of those annoying paranoid worrywart fathers. He's nigh-unkillable, and I'd wager that goes for the sprog as well."

"You can be the escort, if you'd like," William said. "You and Mitchell." He nodded to a young man down at the corner of the table.

"Awright!" The man rubbed his hands together, his eyes bright and eager. "Who likes going on a mission? Kel likes going on a mission!"

 

* * *

 

They trudged along the path to their destination in silence for a while, save for huffs of exertion when they leapt from one rooftop to another, and small metallic jangles from the bullets in Kel's ammo pouch.

"Why do we need him?" Alex muttered quietly to Desmond.

"Duh. He's backup if something goes wrong."

"Nothing's gonna go wrong."

"Hey dudes, wait up," Kel called from several yards behind them.

Alex groaned and slowed his pace.

"Something up, Kel?" Desmond asked as he approached them.

"I was just wondering... the dudes around the den are saying Al's your sub? Is that true?"

Alex groaned again, turned around and headed on, leaving Desmond and Kel in his dust.

Desmond rubbed his forehead. "Kel... can you not?"

"Help me out here, dude," Kel pleaded, pulling back his hood to scratch behind one ear. "I'm confused. How can he be a sub? **Anyone's** sub?"

"Can you  **please**  not? In case you forgot, we're kind of on a mission right now?" Desmond jerked a thumb behind him at Alex, a small speck in the distance. "We're supposed to be his backup, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember, dude." Kel gave a vigorous nod, causing his dreadlocks to flap wildly. 

"And even if we weren't on a mission, I'm not gonna field any questions about our fucking sex life!"

Kel looked shocked. "Duuuude! No need for potty mouth, I'm not asking about **that**! I'm just sayin' I thought he was a virus, not a sandwich!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "From time to time, Alex had to enter a dormant state to let his strange body repair itself fully." Seems legit, right? In the game his regen power doesn't ever heal the health bar all the way, so yeah.


	12. Grand Guignol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles, Mercer, and Mitchell: men on a mission.

Despite Desmond's myriad concerns, the mission went off with nary a hitch. This particular military installation had a couple of viral detectors out front, and- timing the shots carefully to moments when the Marines nearby were looking elsewhere- Kel's silent sharpshooting put a bullet straight into the heart of each one. He grinned. "There ya go, Al! Consider yourself indetectable!"

"Impressive, but you probably should stop calling him Al," Desmond warned.

"Doesn't bother me," Alex said, his voice warbling a bit as he took on the appearance of his most recent victim: a chubby middle-aged guy in a basketball shirt.

Desmond made a face. "Ech, this guy's even uglier than the previous one!"

"How about him?" Chubby middle-aged Alex pointed off into the distance at one of the many men crowding the enemy base's courtyard. "Commander Chakotay there. Not half-bad."

Desmond had to shade his eyes and squint through the sunlight to make out the broad-shouldered leader of the installation. "Him? Uh." He borrowed Kel's sniper rifle and used the scope to get a better view. "I'd say... six outta ten, personally. I'm not into older guys." He looked back to Alex. "Don't tell me you are?"

"Oh, Des. You know I only have eyes for you," Alex said in a dry murmur, keeping his gaze fixated on the target's walking route.

"Eyes and tentacles," Desmond and Kel said simultaneously, then exchanged a glance.

"Dude! I'm, like, psychic!"

Desmond rolled his eyes and handed the apprentice Assassin his rifle back. "Kel, you are not psychic, it was an obvious joke is all. Let's focus back on the mission here." He flicked on Eagle Vision and scanned the street below them. "Right, looks all clear. Or clear enough for our purposes, anyway. Go get 'em, tiger." He hazarded giving Alex a quick pat on the butt.

Alex then flipped forward off the lip of the building and landed with a crunch of pavement.

Desmond facepalmed. _I gotta teach him to climb down quietly._ Luckily, the base was a couple blocks over and there was too much traffic noise for the sound to be heard that far away.

Giving absolutely no fucks about the hole in the sidewalk, Alex strolled casually down the street to approach a lone Marine standing at an intersection, and tapped him on the shoulder.

The Marine spun around. "What?"

"I saw something suspicious down this way." Alex pointed into a dark alley.

The Marine peered into the darkness. "Suspicious?" he asked, sounding a little dubious. "How so?"

"Couple guys in hoods, one with a freaky tattoo on his arm. Think he had a knife or something."

The Marine's face became suddenly serious. "Right. Stay here, citizen, I'll investigate." He stepped forward and clicked the safety off his gun.

Alex followed closely behind without being noticed. Not until it was too late, that is.

* * *

 

Desmond saw the Marine reappear at the alley entrance with the blue-gold glow that told him it was Alex newly re-disguised. "There he goes," he said for the benefit of Eagle-Vision-less Kel.

"Yup, there he goes.... Hey, aren't we looking for Sergeant Shotwell, not Commander Chakotay?"

Desmond snorted. "Yeah, well, Alex's a fan of _Voyager_ , apparently. He must think there's a resemblance, though I sure don't see it."

"Ohh." Kel raised his sniper scope and kept visual track of Alex striding confidently through the masses of Marines. "A'ight. He's in."

Desmond watched the blue-gold disappear among the red. "Dunno why I was so worried," he said with a sigh, switching out of Eagle Vision. "Shaun's right. I mean, he survived a nuclear bomb, so this mission is-"

"Shaun survived a nucular bomb? Since when?"

"I'm talking about **Alex** , obviously! Duh!"

 

 

Alex passed by the inert viral detectors and the lower-ranking Marines, approaching his target with a perfunctory salute. "Sergeant Shotwell?"

Shotwell eyed him sternly. "Private. Why aren't you at your post?"

"Got something to report. For your ears only."

"What sort of 'something'?"

"It concerns the..." Alex glanced around a moment to check nobody else was in earshot. "The Father of Understanding," he finished in a half-whisper.

Shotwell dipped his head slightly and bared his teeth in a sinister smile. "I see. Come this way, then." He beckoned Alex along to a secluded spot behind a cargo truck.

Alex suppressed a smile of his own. _Way too easy._ Once they were out of view of all the other Marines, he slung an arm around the sergeant.

Shotwell looked at him with sudden unease. "Private?" He'd barely gotten the word out when the hand on his shoulder became a web of tendrils, each one razor-thin but strong as steel, and they wove together over his mouth. He made a muffled "Buerf?!" sound that was probably meant to be "Zeus?!" and tried to kick Alex away, but to no avail.

"Understand **this** ," Alex said softly in his ear. "Blacklight is no longer the agent of chaos you people intended. I'm an Assassin now. Not human, but still dedicated to the betterment of humankind. Liberty, equality, fraternity, all that jazz."

Shotwell's hand found his sidearm but Alex flicked it away nimbly and wrapped the man up in thick biomass ropes.

"Fitting, isn't it? Blacklight: working in the dark to serve the light."

Shotwell mumbled an angry incoherence.

Alex let out a quiet "Heh". "Yes, we know you don't agree. You're wrong, though. We're doing worlds of good. But you, Shotwell? You and your kind are a blight on this world. You're pathetic." He spat the last word harshly.

"Marine Sergeant. Master Templar. Your hard-won titles mean nothing. You're nothing but a walking, talking mass of tissue. Water, carbon, calcium, et cetera. So accept your destiny, Neil." Alex said the name in a derisive sneer. "To be broken down and integrated into the body of your enemy."

Shotwell was shuddering in his grip, eyes wide and searching for an out. But there was no "out". There was only "in". Into Alex's body, just as stated.

"And your enemy's gay blowjob baby."

Blood-red waves of biomass flowed over the sergeant as he spent his final moments of consciousness wondering about this last statement.

 

* * *

 

Alex sauntered out of the base wearing Sergeant Shotwell's skin. A couple other Marines followed him. "Is this it, Sarge? Are we starting the sweep now?"

"Not quite yet, boys," Alex drawled. "Gotta check something out first. Keep quiet if you're going to tag along."

The Marines fell into step behind him, their eyes scanning back and forth over the streets as they walked.

Unfortunately, they never thought to look up at the rooftops, and summarily received the natural consequence of being air assassinated two minutes later.

"Good job, dudes," Kel said with a smile as he wiped his blade. "Now we just gotta hide the bodies."

"Duh, Kel!" Desmond snapped. "I didn't reach Master by leaving dead guys in the street, ya know!"

"Quiet," Alex hissed, spinning round to glare at them. "Masters shouldn't reveal their location to listening passers-by either."

Alex's current disguise was a fair bit taller and more thickly muscled than his default, and Desmond was cowed momentarily by that imposing figure. "Right." He bent over and started to wrangle one of the bodies towards a dumpster. "Now that I think of it, we shoulda waited till we got closer to the waterfront to kill 'em. Dumpster's not a great hiding place."

Alex smirked. "I know a better 'hiding place'." His fingers undulated, multiplied, and changed color, becoming deadly dark ropes.

Desmond dropped the limp body a split second before it was absorbed by the seeking tendrils. "Uh, yeah, I guess that works." He dusted his hands off. "Good job, team. Let's head on home."

 

* * *

 

Once they'd gotten back inside the Assassin base, Alex let out a tense breath and took off his disguise, becoming shorter and more compact, save for his belly, which pooched out with a tiny "blorp" as the transformation completed.

Desmond didn't fail to notice this. "Woah."

"Don't tell me you **again** forgot I'm pregnant."

"I- I-" Desmond took a step away, then two steps back forward. "I didn't forget. But, uh." He reached out and hovered his fingertips a few millimeters over the little outward curve. "It looks like... Did it-"

"Little Shit is not an 'it'," Alex warn-reminded him.

Desmond reworded his question. "You, uh... Am I crazy, or are you looking more pregnant than you were before the mission?" He looked to Kel for confirmation, but he was strangely silent for once.

Alex shrugged the observation off. "All the nutrients from those I consumed are basically going straight to your spawn." A strange, barely audible gurgle sounded, and his face did a little wavy flutter. "Yyes. There we go. Feels... so strange."

Then Desmond's fingers were on Alex's belly, and he pulled back his hand in surprise, for he was completely certain it had swelled outward to meet his touch. "Holy crap!" He gave Alex a look of utter shock. "Is that normal? Like, a fucking **perceptible** rate of growth?"

"What is 'normal', Des-bae?" Alex said, suddenly philosophical.

"You know what I mean! This, this hybrid baby." Desmond waggled his finger at it. "I'm thinking we're not gonna be waiting the full human nine months!"

A brightness panned across Alex's eyes. "Speaking of waaaaiiiting," he crooned spookily, "we had to postpone our sexual activity this morning, remember?" With one arm he pulled Desmond close, and with the other he shooed Kel far away.

"But the- the preg- the growing-" Desmond stuttered.

"It's fine," Alex whispered breathily, starting to pull Desmond along toward the stairs.

"But... growing... fast growing..."

"We have time, Des. Trust me, Little Shit isn't making an appearance for a long, long while. And speaking of 'long'..."

Desmond made a short high-pitched "Heek" sound as a hand slithered into his boxers and around his cock.

Alex chuckled. "Now here's something else with a perceptible rate of growth." He pressed Desmond up against the wall, grinding into him slowly but steadily in the shadow of the stairwell.

"You, unh... you got a hell of a way with words," Desmond muttered. Then a few shivering feelers slipped down inside his waistband and squeezed at his backside- "Ah!"- while more undid his fly and wrapped around the head of his cock. He found the words "Oh baby" escaping him in a heedless sigh.

"Forget 'baby'," Alex said against his neck. "Just you and me now."

Following this advice, Desmond let himself fall free from the rest of the world and be simply surrounded by the endless throbbing warmth.

 

* * *

 

"Mitchell?"

At the sound of William's voice, Kel looked up from recounting his bullets for the fifth time. "Yeah, boss dude?"

"Mentor, Kel," Shaun said from his corner of the room.

"Woah. Cool, but... I thought I was Apprentice Kel?"

Shaun groaned. "Yes, Kel. You're an Apprentice,  **he's** the Mentor. Can you get that through your head?"

Kel glanced down at the .50 caliber round in his hand at the moment. "Well, yeah, but I'd die."

William gritted his teeth. "Where's Mercer? And Desmond? I need to debrief them on the mission."

Shaun paused whatever he was doing on the computer to smirk up at him. "I'm pretty sure they're debriefing each other on the stairs."

William went very pale and left the room in a hurry.

 

* * *

 

 

Dr. Ragland wasn't in the exam room when they went for the next ultrasound, and Alex was immediately less relaxed for the absence. "Where is he."

Paul forced himself to keep smiling despite the look of wrath Alex was directing his way. "Not sure, but I'm sure he'll be along in a bit. Meanwhile we can get started. Trust me, I've done hundreds of ultrasounds and haven't had one die on me yet."

A deep and unearthly "...Ha." came out from Alex's throat in response. Desmond tried not to roll his eyes. _And he said **my** jokes were stupid._

"Right, so... " Paul patted the exam table. "Hop up here, just like last time, Dr. Mercer."

Alex's fingers twitched. "What did you call me."

"Well...” Paul brushed a hand absently over his short blonde hair. "Last time we spoke, it slipped my mind, but you've got a doctorate, in genetics, right?"

The next second, Alex was upon the hapless nurse, digging fingernails into his shoulders so hard he pierced the fabric of his scrubs. "Do not call me 'Dr. Mercer'," he growled, lip curling upwards in disgust.

Bewildered, Desmond tugged at the back of Alex's jacket. "Calm down, man! He's just trying to show respect. What's your problem with that?"

Alex spun round. "Calling me **Doctor** Mercer is not **respectful** ," he spat, grabbing him by the neck of his hoodie. "Don't call me that. Ever." He punctuated the last word by shoving Desmond away.

"Hey, watch it!" Desmond yelped, falling in a tumble to the floor. His balance was good enough for running nimbly over narrow beams and ropes, but not anywhere near good enough to stand up to Alex's direct strength pushing him over. "Fuckin' asshole!"

"'Fucking asshole' is fine," Alex said firmly. "'Freak' is fine. 'Monster' is fine. Anything is fine, except 'Doctor'." He turned his sharp glare back to Paul, who shivered and shrank away. "Got that?"

"Got it," Paul squeaked.

There was a dead silence in the room after this. Desmond got up and massaged his butt from where it had impacted the floor. "Gonna have a bruise the size of Rhode Island, I bet," he said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Alex was unamused. "Thought you'd know better."

"Well I didn't, okay, sorry!" Desmond said quickly to forestall another act of violence. "I'll remember from now on, trust me!"

Alex just continued to frown at him.

Desmond made a gentle gesture toward the exam table. "C'mon, I bet getting another look at the kid might cheer you up? That's what we're here for, remember?"

Alex exhaled, a good bit of the anger and tension leaving his body. "Yeah. I remember." He vaulted onto the table and morphed away his shirt layers as before.

"Umm. Right. Let's take a looksie," Paul said, fumbling with the bottle of gel.

Alex's eyes twitched toward the door. Desmond looked too, and a few seconds later Dr. Ragland arrived. "Morning, Alex, Desmond. Sorry I'm late; got caught up in some reading."

"It's fine," Alex said, eyes twitching back to the computer monitor, eager for a glimpse of whatever it would show him. At first the screen was an indecipherable mass of shapeless forms, but within moments it resolved.

Desmond almost didn't want to look at it, but after a "Wow" from Paul, he took a glance, mentally comparing it to the printout from before. Even to his untrained eye, he could tell the proportions had changed noticably. It was less like a jelly bean with arm and leg nubs, and more like an actual little person curled up in there. _A person. I made a **person** inside Alex. God damn._ He gripped the armrest of the chair to stop himself shivering.

"Wow," Paul said again. "This is..."

Alex waited a bit before saying, "Is what?"

"This is... you're sure you're only ten weeks?"

"No. Nine weeks and six days."

Paul squinted at Alex, then the screen, then Alex again. "Really?"

"Really."

"Mind, we want to be as accurate as possible on this," Dr. Ragland said, tapping his pencil on the desk.

Desmond felt a little insulted at the patronizing tone. "Look, there's only one... uh..." He'd begun the reply furiously fast, but now his words slowed with embarrassment. "...only one time I... was inside him without... the... y'know."

"Condom," Alex supplied robotically.

 _Dammit, they didn't need you to spell it out!_ Desmond thought furiously. "Yeah. And that was... Well, I'll defer to Alex's photographic memory and say, yeah, nine weeks six days." He rubbed his head. "Damn, it feels like it's been forever."

Paul bit his lip. "Well, from what I'm seeing, looks more like thirteen-fourteen weeks," he said, jiggling the ultrasound wand a bit.

"Oh. You mean Little Shit's not so little now, huh?" Desmond asked. "Grown a lot?"

"Quite a bit, yes."

"Aha!" Desmond guffawed and slapped his knee. "I knew it! I fuckin' knew it!"

"Yes, I figured he might gestate faster than humans do," Dr Ragland said, picking up a clipboard and starting to write in a lazy scrawl.

"It's all the fucking consuming he's doing, Doc," Desmond explained. "He won't stop! People, zombies, even normal food sometimes: it's crazy!"

Alex lifted one hand and waved it slightly.

"Whadd'ya need, Alex?"

"Huh? Nothing. I..." Alex trailed off, shifting his eyes to the floor as he dropped his hand back down. "Nothing."

Desmond flicked his gaze to the monitor. Onscreen, one of the baby's stubby, half-formed hands appeared palm-out, as if in greeting. "Holy crap. You were saying 'hi' to the little guy!"

"No, we... I... I wasn't..." Alex stammered.

"You were, don't try to deny it!" Desmond had a huge grin. "You're so fucking cute sometimes, y'know?"

Alex crossed his arms firmly. "Mrph."

"So, uhm, anything unusual to report?" Dr. Ragland asked, obviously suppressing a chuckle.

"Unusual in what way?" Alex grumbled.

"Symptom-wise. Are you having any more weakness, any pain or discomfort?"

"I'm fucking **fine** , all right?!"

"Mood swings," Desmond said, his calmness in stark contrast to Alex.

"Hm." Dr. Ragland notated something on his clipboard.

That was the last straw for Alex. "What the fuck are you writing?"

"Just some notes."

Alex sat up and swung his legs over the side of the table, nearly kicking Paul in the face. "What the fuck 'notes'? Is this all just a goddamn research project to you?!"

"No, but-"

Alex cut him off. "Why do I even **need** these appointments?!"

" **You** came to **me** , Alex," Dr. Ragland responded, his voice even and measured. "You wanted prenatal care."

"Just to make sure the Little Shit isn't screwing with me too much, and tell me how much time I have left before he bursts out of me! Don't need all this! Don't need to keep getting more dumbass scans, keep getting this stupid crap on me!" Alex angrily swatted the ultrasound gel off of himself.

"Don't you wanna see how the baby's doing?" Paul asked.

Alex formed his clothing back and got to his feet, towering over the nurse on his stool. "He's doing **fine** , all right! It's not like he could have any fucking **disease** , since he **is** one!"

"Well, half of one," Desmond put in.

"Then if anything goes wrong," Alex said, pausing in the doorway, "it'd be from the puny human half. It'd be **your fault** , Miles." He stared Desmond down for a moment, then stomped out of the room.

They all sat stock still, unable to do anything but listen to heavy footfalls banging away down the corridor, then the _swoosh-smack- **shatter**_ of a window opened too violently, then a faraway **clomp** whose source they could only guess at.

"That could have gone better," Paul finally said in a small voice.

"Coulda gone worse, too, I s'pose. He coulda gotten violent," Desmond said.

Dr Ragland only sighed.

"So, uh... Faster than a human pregnancy," Desmond said, staring at a scuff on the green-tiled floor. He rubbed his sweaty palms on the knees of his jeans. "Um. So, taking this into account, when is he or she gonna... be born?"

"Hrm," Dr. Ragland said, exchanging a look with Paul. "I'd only be making a guess at this point. It could well be that this increase in the growth rate is temporary, and things could slow down later." He scratched his head. "Ideally, I'd want to take some more detailed sonogram measurements tomorrow and the next day, benchmark the growth against normal fetal development, and try to extrapolate from there. But if Alex is unwilling..."

"Yeah." Desmond nodded, frowning. "He's Alex motherfucking Mercer, and what he says goes."


	13. Every Single Broken Part Of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Collecting glass fragments isn't anywhere near as fun as collecting data fragments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously titled "Colliding Chaotic" but this title works way better in so many ways

"Dios mío, what happened here?"

Desmond answered his mother succinctly without even glancing up from his task of collecting glass fragments. "Alex happened."

"Oh." Janet stood there silent for a moment, and then, "Mood swing?"

Desmond sighed and nodded. "He got all mad and ran off. Right in the middle of getting an ultrasound, too. Plus he said he doesn't want to get any more, which is bad news for us, 'cause that means we're flying blind on the due date."

"Hm? I heard it was June 15."

"Maybe, maybe not. He's growing faster than expected. Which only makes sense, considering." Desmond dropped the last of the big glass shards into the trash and grabbed a broom to start sweeping up the smaller bits. "I mean, he's only half human, so maybe he'll only take half the time."

Janet folded her arms and smiled. "Ah. Por supuesto un niño."

"Mom, I've told you before I don't know Spanish," Desmond said, only slightly whiny.

"Oh, lo siento, forgive my code switching," Janet laughed. "You really should learn, though. It would be more useful than all those other languages you know."

Desmond clenched the broom tighter and glared at her. "I did not have a fucking **choice** learning Arabic and Italian and shit! Damn Animus shoved it in my brain, remember?!"

Janet's laughter died away. "Yes. Right. Well, anyway... I'd been wondering what the little one would be, but in retrospect, it's obvious two men can only make a boy, isn't it."

Desmond blinked. "Uh, you'd think so, but Alex said we coulda made a girl. And he's got a genetics degree so I'm inclined to-"

"The genes turned up boy this time, though?" Janet pressed.

Desmond shrugged. "Ultrasound was still unclear down in that region today." He wondered briefly whether the kid would even have human genitals at all, but then forcibly ripped that thought from his mind because it was too creepy.

"But you said 'he'. You said 'he's growing faster, he's half human'."

"Oh. Well, Alex doesn't like the kid referred to as 'it'."

"Ohhh. Of course he doesn't."

Desmond finished sweeping up the last of the broken glass and tilted the dustpan into a nearby trashcan. "Yeah, being called 'it' is one of his fucking triggers. And so is being called 'Doctor', apparently. Just learned that second one today." He leaned back against the wall and looked to the heavy tarp that now covered the empty window-hole. "Hope he's not getting into too much trouble out there on his little preggo tantrum."

"Where did he go?"

Desmond shrugged again, and turned round to face her. "No clue. Like I said, he just got mad and ran off."

"¡Dios mío! You should go find him then!"

He half-laughed at her concern. "I'm sure he's not gotten lost, Mom."

She took him gently by the shoulder. "Go find him, mijito."

He could never avoid smiling at the familiar nickname; it always made him imagine that fucking asshole mint cocktail. "What if he's still mad, though?"

"Then talk him through it! If you two are going to make this relationship work, you need to be there for each other en las buenas y en las malas."

"Spanish again."

"Pah." She gave his shoulder a light smack. "You could learn. It's not all that different from Italian."

He smirked. "Oh really? So if I said, uh, 'il mio ragazzo è un virus, e in stato di gravidanza', you'd understand it?"

Janet smacked him again. "Something about a virus, right, you happy now?" She didn't wait for a reply but just started pushing him in the direction of outside. "Now stop wasting time and go help with his mood swing. I had some pretty bad ones, and that was a planned human female pregnancy, so he's probably going through a lot worse."

"Alright, alright, I'm going! Sheesh."

 

* * *

 

"So, Dana." Rebecca clapped her hand down on Dana's shoulder, startling her from the book she'd been reading. "I'm thinking baby shower. You in?"

"B- baby shower?"

Rebecca gave her a smiling nod. "Yep. They're super not prepared for this kid, so I think it's best we shower 'em with supplies. At least that way all they gotta do is put in a bit of effort."

Dana stood up and put a hand on her hip. "Well, you know Desmond better than I do, so maybe he'd be up for it, but I'm pretty sure Alex will not be pleased with the idea. Hell, he didn't even like when I tried throwing him a birthday party."

Rebecca hooked an arm around her. "C'mon, we can at least go have some fun shopping, picking out adorable widdle baby clothes and shit like that."

Dana smiled. "You footing the bill?"

"Hey, you're the aunt, you oughta pony up the cash for gifts."

"Ugh." Dana clutched her chest dramatically. "Don't call me an aunt. I feel all old now."

They trotted together down the street, putting up their hoods when a few snowflakes started to fall. "Where are we headed?" Dana asked after a couple blocks.

"I saw this shop off MLK and Lexington that looks pretty awesome. Having a sale on baby clothes too, last I checked."

"Aw shit." Dana winced. "Clothes."

Rebecca was perplexed. "Yes, clothes. Problem with that?"

Dana bit her lips together and waited for a trio of bicyclists to pass by. "What if their baby doesn't need clothes?" she whispered.

"You mean it might- Oh crap." Rebecca winced now too.

"Yeah. Might do like Alex, just make his own clothes outta biomass."

Rebecca facepalmed. "Ugh. And I was really looking forward to clothes shopping."

"Well... maybe we should pick up a few outfits anyway, just to cover our asses in case baby doesn't have that ability."

"I doubt baby clothes would cover either my ass or yours," Rebecca joked. "Especially yours, I mean, damn, you got it going on back there."

Dana blushed and chuckled weakly.

 

* * *

 

Alex's "preggo tantrum" had consisted of smashing up a couple helicopters and destroying a small cornerstore that had hosted a hive of Infected. That was over and done with now, though, and currently he was disguised and trying to walk off the remnants of his anger.

When the first light snowflake touched down and hissed on his hair, he ground his teeth together and swore internally. He would have to find shelter before it really started in earnest. But fuck if he was going back to the den. He jostled his way past a gaggle of texting millennials and swung ninety degrees around a lamppost. _There's the spot_. Halfway up an office building; a little inward architectural nook, one he'd used before to escape the Army's prying eyes. He scaled the glass effortlessly and curled up in a ball to wait out the coming flurries.

 

* * *

 

 

"Oooh, check this shit out."

Dana turned away from the baby-monitor display. "What?"

"This crib." Rebecca's eyes gleamed as she ran her hands over the smooth white material. "It's like a fucking spaceship. I love it. We gotta get this, I don't care how much it costs, we'll hack the bank servers or something if we need to."

Dana came closer to inspect the item. It was the shape of an elongated egg, hollowed out of plastic. "'Baby Pod'? I dunno. Seems kind of cold and sterile."

"No, it seems kind of fucking awesome!" Rebecca countered. "And hey, you know those two guys won't want a typical cutie-pie crib design. They'd want something modern like this."

"Umm." Dana leant in close to Rebecca. "I just thought of something."

"Yeah, what? And why are we whispering all of the sudden?"

"Might not need a crib." Dana dropped her voice even lower and cupped a hand around her mouth and Rebecca's ear. "With Alex's biology, he doesn't exactly sleep."

Rebecca turned to give her a stunned look. "Liar. I've seen him motionless on the couch with his eyes closed."

Dana shrugged. "I think that's just what he does when he's bored. Or when he doesn't want anyone to bother him."

"I don't believe you."

"I could be wrong, but think about it. Have you ever heard him complain of feeling tired?"

"Well he's not exactly the kind of guy who shares his feelings a whole lot." Rebecca turned over the Baby Pod price tag, pretending to examine it. "I get what you're getting at, he's not human, but c'mon. Even vampires sleep."

"He's not a fucking vampire, Bex."

"Never said he was. Whatever. I'm getting this crib," Rebecca said firmly. "You wanna go halfsies on it, or you want me to get all the glory for 'Most Kickass Gifter'? Look, it even comes in a nice stealthy virusy black option!"

 

* * *

 

Desmond scanned back and forth over the rooftops as he ran, keeping Eagle Vision constantly active. _Okay, if I was a moody preggo virus dude, where would I go?_ The light snow fogged his view slightly, adding to the dull gray that hung over the world, and he was starting to feel the cold seep through his hoodie. _C'mon Alex, you asshole, don't make me fucking freeze to death tryna hunt you down._

A twinge of intuition made him look up at just the right time to spy a familiar glow in an alcove. "Ha-ha! Gotcha!" he said under his breath, and began the arduous climb up.

 

* * *

Desmond pulled himself over the railing and smiled at the dark huddled shape in the corner of the alcove. "Hey there Alex. Feeling better?"

Alex looked up. "Are you hurt?"

"Huh?"

Alex stood and stepped closer to him. "Are. You. Hurt?"

A long wavering feeler unexpectedly prodded Desmond's ass and he flinched.

"Mrm. Yes. You're bruised." Alex cast his eyes down.

 _Oh right._ Desmond remembered now, the shove he'd gotten. "Yeah, just a little."

The feeler caressed for a few moments longer, then Alex let out a snorting grunt and retracted it. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Desmond said softly.

"It's not."

"No big, all right? I've gotten beat up way worse-"

"By enemies. Not by allies."

"Look, it was an accident."

"I pushed you intentionally," Alex countered.

Desmond ran a light hand over Alex's shoulder. "I know you didn't mean it, bae."

Upon hearing "bae", Alex looked back up, his eyes shaky but his jaw resolute. "I... I **am** sorry."

"I know," Desmond said, and, on a whim, leaned in to attempt a kiss.

But Alex straightened up, pulling just a smidge away, interrupting the attempt. "Never again," he said, and the words were like cold fire. "I meant it, before. I never want to hurt you."

"...Okay, I understand," Desmond answered, unsure how to proceed.

"You don't have to stay."

Desmond couldn't keep up with this disjointed conversation. "What?"

"You don't have to... stick around," Alex said through clenched teeth. "Don't have to live with me. Put up with me. In fact you shouldn't. I'm a hazard to your health."

"Uh, I'm fine, honestly, man. Just a little butt-bruise. And since when was this relationship being forced on me?" Desmond asked, trying to hold back a laugh since Alex seemed to be in a very solemn mood.

"Since," Alex gestured to his middle.

"Pfft! C'mon, it's not like this was your plan, like some weird coercively conceived anchor baby shit. Remember, **I'm** the one who came on to **you** , being all like 'You're hot, let's bone' and 'Let's bone again' and-"

"I said you have to go through this with me. The pregnancy," Alex added as an unnecessary specification.

Desmond shrugged. "I'm cool staying with you. Unless... you want me to leave?"

"Maybe you should. Or rather, **I** should." Alex's eyes turned dark and downcast again. "Like you said. I should leave Manhattan."

"Hey!" Desmond yelped. "That- I was just making conversation, dumbass! Humans do that sometimes! It doesn't mean-"

"No. I should leave." Alex looked down, rivulets of darkness streaming over his arms and hands. "I'm dangerous. A weapon of mass destruction."

Desmond forcibly took him by the chin and made him look back up. "Look, stop being so down on yourself. Yeah, you're dangerous, it's your fucking job description! You're part of the Assassin Brotherhood! And a damn good part of it too! You **literally** eat Templars for breakfast!"

Alex held back the instinctive retort of "No, not literally 'eat'" and instead said, "I'm eating too much lately, though. What happens if, down the line, Little Shit's demands increase, and Templars aren't enough?"

Desmond smiled. "There's always zombies."

"Less than there used to be. What if I can't control myself long enough to go seek them out when the urge strikes? What if I lose control and consume one of you? Or a civilian?"

"So what do you propose instead?" Desmond retorted instantly. "You gonna go live as some kinda hermit from society? I can't imagine that'll be a real great way to raise a kid, even a not-exactly-human one."

Alex's eyes darted from side to side, looking at a water tower, at a faraway helicopter, at a ship on the horizon, looking anywhere but directly at Desmond.

"Look, I trust your self-control, Alex." Desmond's hand moved from chin to shoulder. "Yeah, you **could** obliterate me, or any of us if you wanted to. But I know you don't want to. Hell, I wouldn't've let you fuck my ass or suck my cock if I didn't trust you not to damage the goods."

"Tch."

Desmond ignored the sound of contempt. "Like I said before, I can tell you've got a soft side. And honestly, I kinda like that soft side." He slid his other hand inside Alex's hood, feeling the sleek hair and the firm neck, then further down, tracing in turn over sternum, shirt, and swelling. "I think the kid's helping bring it out more, actually."

Alex "Tch"ed again and stepped jerkily backward from Desmond's touch. "You never wanted this. You just wanted a sexual partner."

Desmond rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, yeah. You're right. I wanted a no-strings-attached fuckbuddy. I wanted to get laid but I didn't wanna come out. I didn't wanna be saddled with a baby, that's for damn sure."

Alex gave him a dark look. "Then I release you. From now on, Little Shit is my responsibility alone."

Desmond sighed and held up his hands. "Look, I think I get what's happening. You're used to flying solo, right? With all your superpowers and shit you never needed help on things before. And granted, that's worked pretty well for you so far. But having a baby, taking care of a kid? That's not something you can fuckin' hammerfist your way through like a Hunter or a tank. You're gonna need help, man."

"I do not need-"

"Maybe not now, but I'm betting you will once he's born!"

Alex frowned and turned away, leaning on the railing.

Desmond tried a slightly different tack. "You've joined the Brotherhood."

"So?"

"So, you can't just run off and abandon us. You're... I mean, I hate to sound like my dad, but you're a real asset. You're a fucking juggernaut. We need you on our side." _And you need us, even if you don't wanna admit it._

"Fine," Alex said in a quiet grumble. "I'll stay."

Desmond smiled. "Good."

Alex was silent for a few moments. He could smell Desmond so much on every gust of wind that whispered past. The scent permeated his consciousness, pricking at myriad old memories both surface and deep. "Desmond," he exhaled in a long loud sigh.

Desmond stepped up beside him. "You're still irritated," he said, stating the obvious.

"You want us to stay. You don't even know us."

"Well I can't get to know you better if you run the fuck away, now can I? And by the way, this 'us' thing is kinda creepy. Please don't tell me you and the kid have some hive-mind shit going on between-"

"No," Alex cut in, cursing himself for the slip. "It's because.... Blacklight."

"Because Blacklight," Desmond repeated, not comprehending.

Alex closed his eyes and took a breath of the dry cold air. Though he didn't technically need to respirate in this manner, it was a lingering habit, and it made him feel a smidge more human.

The inhalation drew in more of those pheromonic molecules from Desmond, bringing forth a rush of mixed reactions. _friend- naïve- wishful- lustful- unique- savior- weak- touching- persistant-_

He forgot the words he'd been planning to say.

"It's the memories, right?" Desmond offered as a guess. "Shitloads of people's memories bouncing around in your brain. So you forget you're just one person sometimes." He chuckled. "You probably got it even worse than I did. I mean, I only relived a handful of people, and not every memory of their whole lives."

This was approximately correct, and Alex gave a nod and a grunt to indicate as such.

"Right. Okay, see there. Maybe I don't know you very well, but that- that right there? We just shared a common experience. We've both got experience with weird mind shit."

"There are other things you don't know."

"I'm not the idiot Shaun makes me out to be, okay? I know you've got a troubled past."

"No you don't."

Desmond chose to ignore this comment. "Hey, your past doesn't matter. We're gonna focus on the future. Y'know, the kid and all." He lifted his hand and hovered it over Alex's on the railing. "Look, it's okay to be scared."

"I'm not scared," Alex spat, pulling his hand away before they touched.

"Alright, maybe not 'scared', but... worried?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not even a little bit worried about havin' a baby? I mean, I hear it hurts like a motherfucker." 

"Don't worry, Desmond. My body will handle it."

"You don't know that for sure. Unless- have you had one before? Is that what you mean about me not knowing your past?" Desmond laughed.

"I mean I'm not Doctor Mercer," Alex said stonily, trying to resist the infectious sound of the laughter.

"Okay, you're not, that guy was an asshole," Desmond said, throwing an arm around Alex and squeezing lightly. "So stop being an asshole and come back to the den."

Alex leant on Desmond's shoulder. "All right. I'll come back. But if I ever hurt you again..." He shook his head. "I won't. I **won't**."


	14. Kirameku Sekai (Whoah Yeah)

"Oh my god, just imagine Alex in this!" Rebecca's voice was barely coherent underneath laughter as she held up a generously-sized black t-shirt with white block lettering.

Dana smirked. "'Here Comes Trouble,' huh? That'd be an accurate shirt even if he wasn't pre-" She cut the word short and glanced around the store, suddenly on edge.

"Oh, c'mon, relax a little. Nobody's listening in."

At that precise moment, a perky salesperson appeared right behind Rebecca. "Hi there!" she chirped. "Findin' everythin' all right?"

"Yes we're fine!" Dana said quickly.

"Really? You looked a little lost."

Dana mentally facepalmed. Of fucking course the salesperson had misinterpreted her anxious check for eavesdroppers. "No, really, we were about finished actually," she said, grabbing Rebecca's arm to guide her out of the store.

The salesperson, however, was having none of that. "Aw, don't, please!" she said through a wide smile. "We're not like that here. In my opinion y'all are a **very** cute couple."

"We're whaaat?" Dana asked before she could think to stop the words coming out.

"A cute couple," the salesperson repeated, bobbing her head. "So, which'a you two is pregnant?"

Rebecca snorted. "Neither. We're shopping for a friend."

"Oh. Oh!" The salesperson covered her mouth. "Mega sorry 'bout that!"

"Aw, no prob." Rebecca held up the "Here Comes Trouble" shirt again. "You wouldn't have this in a men's, would you?"

The salesperson's face froze for a moment as she tried to process this unusual request, but she soon recovered. "Oh! Yeah, that'd be this rack here." She turned and pulled a shirt from a rack behind her. "So ya got 'Here Comes Trouble' for mommy- well, for baby really, 'cus baby's the 'Trouble'- and then for daddy, he's 'Trouble Maker', ya see?"

"Ooooh!" Rebecca turned to Dana with a big grin. "Think we should get that one too?"

"What, for Des..." Dana bit her tongue midway through the name and then awkwardly stumbled into "...iree's husband? Yeah we could get that for Desiree's husband! Oh, man, I just completely brain-farted on Desiree's husband's name!" She searched the salesperson's face, trying to see if this cover was being believed or not.

"It's, uh... Robert!" Rebecca invented, and turned to the salesperson. "Yeah, we'll get the matched set of shirts for them, great, thanks a ton!"

"Glad I could help." The salesperson hovered away to assist some other customers.

Dana exhaled a heavy breath.

Rebecca suppressed a cackle that would have been raucously loud. "'Desiree'? Oh man, wait till I tell Desmond that's his new identity!"

"Well sorry, **you** try thinking of another dude name that starts with 'Des'! And what the fuck is with 'Robert'?"

"It's the first thing that came to mind; you got a problem with it?"

"A 'Robert' tried to kill my brother. I got some bad memories with that name."

Rebecca's eyes lit up with belated recollection. "Oh, right, Robert Cross. Geez, what is it with people named Cross and being evil douches?"

Dana lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. "Well, he wasn't completely evil. From how Alex tells it, he was kind of an ally for a little bit."

"Oh. Uh, sorry for calling him a douche, then."

Dana chuckled. "It's fine. I'm not the hugest fan of him. And he's dead now, so it doesn't really matter."

Rebecca looked away, ran a hand idly over a clothing display rack. "Alex didn't have a lot of allies to spare, did he?" she said after a moment, glancing back to Dana.

Dana nodded gently. "We sure have plenty now, though. It's nice, being part of... your thing," she finished vaguely, in case any other salespeople were lurking nearby.

Rebecca smiled. "Even though it means you gained some new enemies?"

"Yeah, it's still overall pretty nice. And you know my favorite part? After years of hiding out with just Alex, it's fucking **heaven** to have actual sociable humans to talk to. Sure, I love 'im to bits, but sometimes he's just..." She fumbled her hands in the air.

"Yeah, I deffo feel you on that."

 

* * *

 

Just as quickly as it had come on, the snowfall was over and done with. Now the sun was shining again, undoing the cold from before. Only sparse bits of water on the ground remained.

As they made their way back to the den, Desmond did Alex the courtesy of filling him in on what he'd missed. "So Ragland said maybe the baby's just, like, temporarily on a growth spurt."

"Mrm."

"But that's just one possibility. A freakier possibility is that things might keep going faster and faster." Desmond looked at Alex. "I mean, you're a pretty 'fast' type of guy."

"I doubt my sprinting speed has any relation to Little Shit's growing speed, Desmond," Alex said flatly.

"Well, maybe- Whup." Desmond's phone buzzed, interrupting him. "Hope that's not about you and your preggo tantrum," he grinned at Alex, pulling it from his pocket.

Alex scoffed. "If I'd triggered a military snafu today, you would already know."

"Just a li'l joke, dude." Desmond unlocked the screen and checked the alert. "Oh. Weird. Usually they do a mass text to everybody, but this one's just from Rebecca to me."

"What does she say?"

Desmond shaded the screen from the sun with his hand so he could better make out the message body. "Des what size shirt does Alex 'ware', misspelled."

Alex heaved a growly, long-suffering sigh. "Told you bef-"

"I know! I know!" Desmond hit 'reply' and started off with three question marks. "But apparently she doesn't!" In full, his reply read:

??? N/A? He makes his own shirts... and aren't these phones for official stuff only?

Rebecca texted back after a short interval.

sure sure ill just get a size up from u ok his faev color is black right also did u chose a names yet n if no pls let me now when u do asap

Desmond stared at the befuddling words and tried to decipher them for several seconds before Alex, tired of waiting for him, just picked him the fuck up and slung him over one shoulder.

"Woah, hello?!"

Alex resumed trotting toward the base, small patches of moisture sizzling when he stepped on them. "We need to get back, you said."

Desmond scrambled to zip his phone into his pocket so it wouldn't fall out. "Okay sure, but hello? Shouldn't you be taking it easy? Y'know, with the Little, whoops, I mean, with Deon-slash-Elizabeth?"

Alex grumbled a non-answer.

"Then again, you carried that couch and no harm done." Desmond wiggled, not exactly comfortable.

"Going up."

Desmond couldn't even get out a "Huh?" before the ground turned ninety degrees and they were indeed going up, tendrils racing them skyward heart-stoppingly fast. "Oh fuck!" He felt himself start to slip, but one of Alex's arms curled more firmly around his butt to hold him on.

"Stop moving."

"All right. You're the boss, apparently."

 

* * *

 

Dana and Rebecca checked out of TCP with [the "Trouble" t-shirts](https://www.etsy.com/listing/119274260/funny-here-comes-trouble-and-trouble), the Baby Pod ("Some Assembly Required", natch), a basic layette set, and a couple reference books. "So I'm thinking about holding this shindig sometime January, after all the winter holidays get done with," Rebecca said.

"Isn't a baby shower traditionally held near the end of pregnancy? Like, month eight?"

Rebecca laughed. "Traditionally, yeah right. You think anything about this pregnancy is gonna be traditional? And besides, I hear tell the little squid's growing faster than expected."

"Oh, you did not just call the baby a squid."

"You've heard what Alex calls em, right? 'Little Squid' is like a cleaned-up, cuter version of that."

"You usually swear like a taxi driver; why choose this of all things to 'clean up'?"

Rebecca ignored the question. "Point is, we might not even have an eighth month. Oh, snap, I just realized, we gotta get formula. D'you think the squid'll eat human stuff?"

Dana shrugged. "Don't look at me!"

 

* * *

 

Desmond busted into the tactical support room. "Yo Shaun."

"Yo, Desmond," Shaun responded, giving the slangy salutation a try, and not really liking the sound of it. "Do you need something?"

"I been wondering. That Deoni-whatever god guy, the one born outta the original Zeus's head?"

"Dionysus, and his thigh." Shaun was still focused on his computer screen.

"Head, thigh, whatever. What's he the god of?"

"Well... a lot of things, but in a nutshell: drink and debauchery."

"Oh." Desmond thought a moment, then sniggered. "Guess that's pretty fitting for the spawn of a gay bartender, huh?"

Shaun turned 180 degrees to face him over the back of his chair. "You're seriously naming him Dionysus?" His tone was incredulous, but not disapproving.

Desmond waved a hand to dismiss that. "Nah, 'Deon'."

"'Deon'."

"Yeah."

"Well then." Shaun adjusted his glasses and turned back to his computer.

"What?" Desmond was suddenly salty. "You got a problem with the name 'Deon'?"

"Not exactly, but I-"

Whatever he'd been planning to say was cut off by the doorbell dinging. "Ah, they're here!" came William's voice from another room.

Desmond abandoned his discourse with Shaun and headed out to see who exactly was there. It turned out to be a half-dozen Assassins visiting from the Detroit den. Lucy headed the pack, and she was at first smiling and shaking hands with William, but as soon as she spotted Desmond, her mood turned insta-sour. She seemed to forget anyone else was there as she aimed a fierce frown his way.

Torn between greeting her normally and telling her to chill out, Desmond went with a little of both. "Woah there Luce."

"You're gay," she said, and in such an indignant tone, the implication seemed to be, "How dare you be gay?"

"Uh... nice to see you too."

Shaun had arrived to greet their guests as well. "Oh, is this how the cool kids in Michigan say hello nowadays? 'You're gay'? I must say, it hasn't really caught on 'round here."

Lucy glared at him. "Hey Shaun, me and Desmond are talking now." Then she turned her glare back to Desmond. "You flirted with me. All the fucking time. And you're gay."

Desmond felt incredibly awks being grilled on his sexuality with everyone's attention focused on him. "Uh, can we talk about this someplace else?"

And so she grabbed his arm and pulled him away as the other Assassins looked on in amused confusion.

Gavin nudged William with his elbow. "Kids these days, huh, Bill? Always drama, even without Templars in the mix."

William sighed and changed the subject. "Did you bring the turkey?"

Gavin grinned. "We brought two of 'em, and Emmett's coming later with pie: lemon meringue **and** pecan! This is gonna be one hell of a Thanksgiving dinner!"

Lucy wrangled Desmond into the stairwell so she could berate him more privately. "You flirted with me," she repeated coldly. "But you're gay."

Desmond's brain couldn't help pointing out to him _oh hey this is the exact spot where Alex tentacle sexed me against the wall a while back_. But he forced that thought aside for now. "If you mean during those Animus escapades last year, then I seem to recall you flirted with me first," he said, trying to remain calm.

"That's beside the point! You flirted back!"

"Look, I was a bartender for four years."

"What does that have to do with anything?!"

Desmond held up his hands, requesting her to let him finish explaining. "I lived off straight-girl tips! To get better tips, I had to make them think I was possibly on the menu!"

Lucy narrowed her eyes at him.

"So I got really good at fake flirting, okay? It's called a fucking job skill!"

"It's called you fucking led me on!"

"Well after four years it kinda becomes automatic, but I'm sorry, okay? Maybe I shoulda started with that. I'm sorry."

Lucy exhaled, relaxing out of her angry stance. "Fine. Whatever. I don't get how a twenty-five-year-old from New York of all places could be a closet case, but-"

"Twenty-six, and technically he isn't from New York," came a rough rumble from above. They looked up the stairway to see Alex. He had one hand on the banister while the other rested lightly on his belly, and it was this latter spot that Lucy stared at incredulously. When Alex realized where she was staring, he pulled that hand away and ran it through his hair. "Black Hills, South Dakota," he mumbled, making eye contact with the wallpaper.

Desmond tried to remember: had he ever actually told Alex his place of origin? Or had he just picked up that info somewhere and retained it?

Lucy subtly backed a couple steps down the stairs, increasing the distance between herself and Alex.

He noticed the cautious movement and turned his head to look at her directly. "Are you afraid of me?" he asked, saying it in the same nonchalant fashion one might use for "D'you think it'll rain?"

Lucy hesitated for a slight moment. Desmond took gentle hold of her shoulder and was about to say something, but Alex spoke again first.

"It's fine if you are."

"I'm not," she said casually, though her body language didn't quite jibe. "It's... nice to finally meet you, Alex." She held out a hand. "I'm-"

"Lucy Rachel Stillman. Yes." He glanced down at her offered hand and warily grasped it, but didn't shake.

"Wait, how the hell do you know her middle name?" Desmond demanded, goggling at him.

"Richard Michael Graham. Loyal employee of Abstergo Industries. He knew lots of things about her."

"And you've consumed his memories," Lucy correctly surmised.

Alex smirked. "And all the rest of him."

She laughed. "Good riddance. That guy was an ass even when he wasn't on a mission to kill me."

 

* * *

 

Everyone was pitching in for Thanksgiving dinner. The den became a flurry of activity as each of them set about their assigned tasks. Desmond and Rebecca found themselves working together on peeling, seasoning, and mashing potatoes.

"So after chewing my ass out for flirting with her, she goes on to say 'Doesn't matter, I'm dating Clay now'," Desmond was saying. "That feels a little weird."

"How's it weird?" Rebecca asked.

"Um, well... I hooked up with him a few times. Secretly, though. 'Cause I wasn't out yet, obviously."

"But now you are, and don't it feel good?" Rebecca gave him a huge smile.

"Oh, Becca, I been meaning to ask..." He turned to her, unaware of his slight blush. "When'd you figure out I was gay?"

She laughed. "Forever ago! Just a matter of putting the pieces together, bud!"

"How? What 'pieces'?" He was a little upset now. "I didn't, like, work in a goddamn gay bar or anything, so how the hell-"

Rebecca interrupted him. "First off, whenever you relived memories of Ezio having fun with one of his many 'outlets', your vitals didn't pick up steam like a straight guy's would've. Heartrate, breathing, blood pressure: nothing ever matched up with the standard signs of arousal. Plus you didn't get a boner, so yeah."

Desmond slumped over the mixing bowl. "Uggh. So it was that obvious?"

"Pretty obvious to me, being the one running your Animus sessions." Rebecca shrugged. "Also, remember this summer when it was super hot? I noticed you never batted an eye at me or the other girls in short shorts and tank tops, but the shirtless guys were another thing entirely."

"Ugggh," Desmond said again.

"Yeah, bet you thought your longing glances were surruptitious, huh? Nope."

"So did **everybody** know I'm gay?"

"Shaun probably figured it out, but was smart enough to know you didn't want it broadcasted." Rebecca leaned in to whisper. "I had to break the news to Dana a while back, 'cause she told me you were, quote, 'a major hottie'."

"Um. Well, I'm flattered, I guess?"

Rebecca grinned impishly. "Hope that doesn't make things weird when you become her brother-in-law."

"B-bruh..." Desmond stammered. "Broth.... That'd only happen if me and Alex got married!"

"Well, yeah. Duh."

Desmond involuntarily envisioned Alex "Blacklight"-"Zeus"-"Public Enemy Number One" Mercer wearing a flowy white dress and standing at a church altar. "Okay, there are **multiple** reasons that's never gonna happen."

"Never say 'never', Dessy." Rebecca tickled his chin.

He shoved her hand away. "Fuck off with calling me 'Dessy'."

 

* * *

"C'mon, Manny, everyone else's seated, the food's gonna get cold!" Gavin clapped his hands together loudly. "Chop chop!"

"All right, shut up, I'm comin'!" Emmanuel finally came in and took his seat, rounding out the full sixteen seats at the crowded dinner table. Desmond had briefly been introduced to everyone he wasn't already familiar with: Emmanuel a.k.a. "Manny", the peacenik weapon specialist; Stephanie, the doctor whose parents worked for Abstergo; Emmett, the stoner hacker; Gavin, an old friend of his dad's who was pretty much being groomed as the next Mentor, and Harlan, who looked a lot more like a slick politician than the gay martial artist he actually was.

They, of course, were already pretty familiar with Desmond and his life story: everything from running away at sixteen to achieving Master rank at twenty-six. He did his best to be modest about that part. "It's no big deal, really. Almost an honorary title, in recognition all the crap I went through last year."

"Crap or not, you did get a couple lifetimes' worth of experience in the span of a few months," Gavin said.

Desmond looked down at the lake of gravy on his potatoes. "Yeah, but using the Animus is kinda cheating."

Setting down his glass with a small but decisive _clink_ , William looked at him and said, "The Animus didn't decimate Abstergo's headquarters, and neither did it lead the charge for us to re-establish operations here in Manhattan. I would not have bestowed you that rank if you hadn't properly earned it, Desmond."

"Okay, but still..." Desmond smiled at their visitors. "Try not to think of me as a 'Master', 'cause mostly I'm just a normal Assassin doing normal Assassin stuff."

"Normal Assassin stuff like fathering a child with a virus," Dr. Chiu said in a half-whisper to Dr. Ragland.

"Okay, maybe that's not super normal." Desmond glanced at Alex, seated on his right. He had a full meal set before him, just like everyone else, except that his beverage was a can of San Pellegrino Sparkling Orange Juice instead of wine. (Kel had also opted for this substitution.)

Janet tittered. "Well, normal or not, I'm thankful mijito has found someone to share his life with." She raised her wine glass. "Let's all go around the table and say what we're thankful for."

Desmond half-listened to everyone's answer, unable to focus fully. A hazy anger was starting to gnaw at him, and he had a nagging idea of its origin.

Alex noticed the way Desmond's brow was furrowing and he poked him. "Are you alright?"

"Not really. Thanksgiving is pissing me off."

Every head at the table swiveled to stare at him. "What? Why?" Dana asked, looking horrified.

"It's, y'know...."

Shaun interrupted with an "Ah" and a knowing nod. "Yes, I see. Quite obvious, actually."

Dana shot him a dirty look. "Well, it's not obvious to the rest of us, so shut up." She turned back to address Desmond again. "Care to explain?"

"Umm..." He cleared his throat and laughed nervously. "I'm not like, unpatriotic or anything. I think it's just from, y'know, being Connor. I had to see all the terrible shit Native Americans went through." He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "And even George fucking Washington was in on it, and plus he and the other founding fathers all owned slaves, and just... fucking **fuck** , y'know?"

Dana made a small "Hm."

"That wasn't the same time period, though," Lucy pointed out. "The Pilgrims and Thanksgiving and stuff was way before the Revolution."

Desmond frowned down, poking at his mashed potatoes. "I know, but it still reminds me." A hand landed quietly on his forearm. He looked to his right and saw Alex's steady blue eyes.

"The past doesn't matter. We're gonna focus on the future," Alex said, quoting Desmond's words from the other day.

Desmond chuckled. "Yeah. You're right, Alex."

Shaun coughed meaningfully. "Hello, the past **does** matter!"

"It was centuries ago," Alex growled across the table at him. "It shouldn't bother Desmond now."

"Oh, his country being founded by privileged racists, hypocrites who wanted freedom for themselves but no-one else, shouldn't bother him, eh?"

William intervened. "Settle down, everyone. Let's not start an argument."

Uneasy silence fell. Alex stared daggers at Shaun for a long minute, then shoved his chair out with a raucous scrape. "I'm going out."

"Hey." Desmond grabbed his hand. "You can't leave, you haven't even eaten a goddamn thing."

Alex gave him a look like "are you fucking kidding me?"

Desmond tugged him back toward the table. "Us humans worked hard on this meal. And don't gimme the 'I can't eat like a human' line, 'cause we know that's bullshit now."

Janet nodded. "Yes, and you're, eh, como se dice, eating for two, right? So don't be shy if you need seconds on anything! I wanted to say something earlier, but-"

Alex interrupted her. "It's cooked."

"Qué tonto, of course it's cooked!"

"I can't..." Alex closed his eyes for a moment. "Can't use it. The myoglobin. Denatured." He reopened his eyes, looking slightly sad. "It has to be living or freshly dead."

"Okay, maybe the meat is a no-go, but you ate those bananas just fine." Desmond glanced at the virus-man's untouched plate. "So, judging from that, I bet you could process these green beans and potatoes and cranberry sauce and-"

Alex flicked Desmond's hand away and sat back down. "Fine. I will need to go out later, though. This won't be enough."

"You can have thirds if you need," Janet said sweetly. "However much you need to help you grow mi nieto!"

Alex glared at her. "Your nieto is not made of green beans. He's made of flesh."

"Greeen beean baaaby," Kel sang in a silly voice. Dana chortled into her wine glass.

Desmond gave Alex a good-natured thwack on the shoulder. "C'mon. Eat."

"And would you take off your damn jackets at the dinner table?" Harlan implored him. "It almost physically hurts me to look at you."

"Hey, be nice," Desmond retorted.

"No, it's fine," Alex grumbled, morphing down to his shirt. "Human social customs. I forget sometimes." He peered quizzically at his plate, tilting his head to one side, then extruded several thin tendrils from the palm of his hand and sucked in his dinner roll with a small _shl-pop!_

A few of the visiting Assassins flinched at this unusual sight. "Speaking of human customs, you might could try using silverware," Emmett drawled through a smile.

 

* * *

 

After a long while, Alex finally managed to finish most of the food he'd been given. (He was a little inept at using silverware, and also wasn't accustomed to consuming with his mouth.) "Going out," he said again, interrupting the fascinatingly esoteric conversation that Doctors Ragland and Chiu had been having.

"Right, stay frosty out there," Gavin said.

Alex pushed his chair away and slunk out of the dining room. A few minutes later, just as people were beginning to disperse from the table, he came right back in. "Somethin' wrong?" Desmond asked, looking up from clearing the dishes.

"It's snowing."

Desmond smiled, eyes sparkling. "So? I know this isn't a sentiment shared by all humans, but I happen to love snow days."

Alex's clenched fists shook at his sides, pulsed slightly. "Snow's made of **water** , you stupid **cock**!"

Desmond shrank back. "Oh. Shit. Sorry."

Dr. Chiu nodded. "Right, the Blacklight virus reacts violently with water, doesn't it?"

Alex scowled at her. "I'm not an **it**."

"Oh, I didn't mean any offence."

Desmond came over to him. "Guess you gotta put off the rest of your Thanksgiving dinner, huh? Until the snow's- Wait! I know!" His eyes lit up again. "Just put on some winter clothes, so the snow won't be touching you."

"What."

"Don't see any reason you couldn't put human clothes on yourself." Desmond looked him up and down. "I think you're kind of the same size as me, except for... the obvious. Being pregnant and all. But you're not that fat yet, so there shouldn't be a problem."

Alex was nearly frozen. "Wear... your clothes," he said stiffly, brows wrinkled.

"Yeah. Why not?"

"Why... not," Alex repeated slowly with a faint movement of his head.

Desmond took that as an "okay", threw an arm around his shoulders and grinned at the other Assassins. "You guys good cleaning up dinner? I'm'a go help him pick something out."

So they went up to their shared suite. Desmond was again taken aback by the size of Alex's tummy as the many layers disguising it melted away. It must have stuck out a good three or four inches at the apex. He realized he was staring and turned away to dig in his dresser drawer.

"You're allowed to look, Desmond."

Desmond swallowed. "Okay, but it still freaks me out." After saying this, he heard Alex step up closer behind him.

"You're... no longer attracted to me?"

He turned back and found himself staring right into those amazing eyes. "No way! That's not what I said!"

The eyes looked hurt and confused. "But you... don't want to look at me."

Desmond touched Alex's cheek lightly. "Yes, I do. The pregnancy freaks me out, but you're still nice to look at." He leaned in a little closer. "Especially nekkid."

A faint blush came over Alex's face. "You horndog," he whispered.

Desmond smirked. "Hey, that's the other reason I turned away. If I kept lookin' at ya, I'd get all aroused and wanna have sex. And I know you're really jonesing for food right now, not a fucking."

Slowly, Alex started to unbutton Desmond's shirt. "Maybe you can... fuck my hunger away."

Desmond couldn't help it, a short laugh escaped him. "Seriously? 'Fuck your hunger away'?"

Alex tilted his head impishly. "Or at least distract me from it for a while."

"Oh, c'mere, you sexy preggo freak." Desmond grabbed the back of Alex's head and pulled him into a kiss, which was met with surprise that soon melted into acceptance. He popped out of the kiss for a moment to say, "Just a heads up: I might start nodding off in the middle of things, but if so, that's not a reflection on you, it's just a Thanksgiving food coma, y'dig?"

"Thanksgiving," Alex murmured, slipping Desmond's shirt off his arms and letting it drop to the floor. "Yeah. I dig."

Desmond smiled. "And if I conk out naked on the floor, would ya be a sweetheart and put me back in bed, tuck me in so's I don't freeze?"

"Mrm. For now, just shut up and get back to business."

They were very warm during that long snowy night.


	15. The Fire Of September

"Alex an' me are gonna go out on patrol again," Desmond called over his shoulder as they headed out the door. "Need anything, just text me."

Dana watched them go. "He and Alex have really hit it off, huh." She smiled softly. "I'm glad. He needed a friend."

"Friend, yeah," Rebecca said in response, her voice infused with almost-laughter.

 

* * *

 

They made their way across the island with no real goal in mind, down past Central Park, through Midtown and into Chelsea, Desmond laughing and joking when he had breath to spare, which wasn't often, for Alex was pretty damn speedy and following him was tiresome even for someone as fit as himself.

After all the muscle memory he'd gained through using the Animus, and no small amount of real-life experience besides, Desmond was almost a complete master of parkour, but there were still some moves that were beyond his ability, and might possibly always remain so. Like wallrunning, for instance.

"Damn, dude!" he finally summoned up enough lungpower to protest. "I cannot keep up with you when you do this sort of superhuman shit!"

Alex turned his head at the shout and came, jerkingly, jarringly, to a stop. The little micro-filaments that provided him traction across the smooth windows now bulked up into red vines, puncturing through the glass to hold him tight in that spot on the building.

Desmond winced. "Aw geez, didja have to ruin the window like that?!"

Alex turned his head again, to look at his tendrils and the damage they'd wrought. "Sorry," he mumbled, barely loud enough to carry down to Desmond on the setback below.

"Apologize to the people whose office that is, not me, man."

Alex peered through the broken glass. "This office is unfurnished. Unoccupied."

"Okay, but still, I think New York, as a whole, doesn't appreciate you busting up their buildings. Maybe that sort of thing is why you're not winning any popularity contests around here."

Alex dropped down with a _thump_ to face him. "Don't need to win any contests."

"Well you do need to minimize your collateral damage." Desmond cracked a little smile. "I mean, that falls under the scope of the first tenet, right? Kind of?"

Alex looked at him for a moment, his mouth a rigid horizontal line. Then the line quirked up with faint amusement. "Stay your tendrils from the buildings of the innocent?"

Desmond laughed and nodded. "Yeah, exactly. Save the destruction for enemy bases and hives, all right?"

"Mm," Alex nodded back.

"I mean, not a lot of people would give a shit about Random Skyscraper Number Fifty-Eight-Hundred, but what if you fucked up Madison Square Garden over there?" He flicked his hand out toward the distinctive round arena directly south of them. "Then where would the Knicks play this upcoming season?"

"Shut up, you made your point," Alex said, dropping to sit on the edge of the ledge.

Desmond laughed a quiet laugh, not because anything was funny right at that moment, but just as a nervous reflex against Alex's "Shut up." He sat down too, just far enough from him that the sides of their bodies didn't touch.

The sky above had a base of blue, but was overlaid in patches with the surreal red-grey clouds that Desmond had come to learn meant a nexus of Infected activity nearby. He supposed they should probably address that by clearing out the hive or whatever it was, since they were meant to be on patrol right now.

However, at this minute, this second... he didn't want to think about Infected. He wanted to sit there and enjoy being with Alex. Not that he didn't enjoy being with him during missions, but... it was a special kind of nice to relax on a rooftop, forget their obligations, and just shoot the shit.

So he took his eyes off the sky and put them on Madison Square Garden again. "Y'know, it's stupid, but this place always reminds me of the Colosseum."

"Hrm," Alex grumbled. He was looking across 8th to another looming landmark: Penn Station. "Reminds me of the start of the outbreak."

"Huh? Oh." Desmond felt awkward and quickly wracked his brain for a way to distract Alex from the painful memory of his past actions. "Umm... Hey, does that water tower look rusty to you?" He pointed up at a nearby rooftop. "Like, that weird Infected type of rust?"

Alex blinked and shook his head, as if shaking away the sight of Penn Station, then refocused his vision where Desmond was pointing. "Yeah." He stood and flexed his right arm, chaotic ripples rushing down from his shoulder and reforming the appendage into a tangled mess of hard black, with silvery daggery things where his hand had been.

Desmond blew out a whistling breath. "What's this one called again?"

Alex had to think a moment. "Whipfist."

Desmond eyed the daggery things again. "But it's not a fist. Fists are like, bludgeony. This looks more stabby."

"It's Dana that came up with these names."

"Well, next time I see her, I'll suggest she rename it Whipclaw or something."

Alex could not give two shits about what names were assigned to the morphology of his various attacks, so he just rolled his eyes and propelled his right arm, whatever the humans wanted to call it in its current state, to stretch through the air, easily piercing the weakened metal of the water tower.

"Woah!" Desmond yelped as the metal creaked loudly.

Alex gave the arm a twist. The twist took a second to travel from him to the water tower, which then collapsed in on itself. He shivered with satisfaction, feeling the biomass of the Hunter that had been incubating there being absorbed into himself.

Desmond laughed. "Damn, dude! That was awesome!" He pointed out another rusty water tower, further away. "Can you reach that one too?"

It turned out that he could indeed reach that one too.

"Damn dude," Desmond repeated as Alex's arm racheted back. "Your virus body is fucking amazing!"

The arm returned to normal with a twitch. "It's not my 'virus body'. It's just my body."

"Okay, your body is fucking amazing." Desmond grinned. "This is weird, but I'm a little turned on right now, actually."

"Oh." Alex duplicated the grin, a little stiffly. "We should... go take care of that, then."

 

* * *

 

They returned again to that grungy little place Alex and Dana had used as their hideout before their recent move to the Assassin base. It was less messy than the last time Desmond had seen it. "Someone's broken in, I think. A bunch of your stuff's missing."

Alex grunted. "It's fine. Nothing we needed was still here. Dana brought all her belongings to the den."

"What about **your** belongings?"

"Heh. I'm pretty self-sufficient, if you hadn't noticed."

"Well, you do travel light. Or as light as possible, given that you weigh like five hundred tons," Desmond laughed, casually taking his shirt off. "Y'know, before I actually met you, from the way the media talk about the big bad Zeus," -he says it in a thick, mocking tone- "I'd kinda envisioned you as... bigger. Like, maybe not Godzilla big, but maybe Hunter big."

"Well, I'm very dense." Alex saw Desmond's eyes light up and preempted him making any comment by adding, "Physically."

"Of course physically," Desmond said with a smile. "C'mon man, I'm kinda hurt that you'd think I don't appreciate your mind as well as your body."

"You were about to make a stupid joke."

Desmond held up his hands. "Okay, you got me. Let's, um, just get down to sexytimes then, shall we?"

Alex nodded once, businesslike, his layers ghosting away to reveal the body beneath.

"Mm-mm!" Desmond made grabby fingers as he approached Alex. "Man, you are hotter than a lot of the humans I've fucked."

Was that a lot? Alex wondered. How was he supposed to respond to this? "...Thank you?"

Desmond slunk closer, leaning in to close the distance between their faces. "You can thank me in a better way than just with words."

Alex felt their lips press together, hot and wet and sliding, Desmond's scar and slight stubble so intense against his overactive sensory system. A strange grunt escaped his throat. _warm- good- touch- close- so much- just fuck-_ His eyes started to swim and he saw flashes of other lives, humans kissing each other, communicating silent secrets mouth-to-mouth.

 _so strange- not us- why- how-_ _fuck-_

The memories didn't help him one bit. All they said was that kissing felt pleasurable; they lacked instructions on how to do it. So he beat them back into the recesses of his mind, clutching onto Desmond's neck tightly, eyes scanning feverishly over his features. _This is Desmond. This is now. Our own memory, not a stolen one. He can teach us this._

"Alex," Desmond suddenly said. His breath was tangy-sweet, flowing out all over Alex's face and up into his nostrils. "Stop staring." He brought one hand up to cover Alex's startled blue eyes, wrapped the other around his waist. "It's creepy to kiss with your eyes open."

Alex squirmed. "Don't like kissing. Not good at it," he mumbled against the corner of Desmond's mouth.

Desmond laughed. "You're plenty good enough. And I'm sure you'd be **great** if you tried."

Alex huffed and pulled away just far enough to break bodily contact. His skin was flushed and he crossed his arms over his bare chest. "I don't understand this."

Desmond's lightheartedness paused. "You wanna stop? We can stop if you-"

"I **want** to understand it." Alex ran a nervous hand through his own hair, slowly, as if feeling its texture for the first time. "You've taught me the Creed, and so many things more about being an Assassin. About being a human." He chuckled darkly. "Sex is the most human activity of them all, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say it is," Desmond said, trying to control his heavy, panting breaths. "But I... there's..."

"You what, there's what?"

Desmond shook his head. "You don't hafta have sex with me, just to learn it and understand it, just 'cause I'm the Master and you're the, well, 'Novice', I guess. If that's what this is, then I dunno if I like it." He turned slightly away. "Feels almost like I'm taking advantage of you."

Alex chuckled again- no, he full-on **laughed**. "As if you could take advantage-"

"I don't mean physically overpowering you to get my rocks off, dumbass!" Desmond retorted. "I'm well aware I'm not fucking capable of that!"

"Then what's the problem?" Alex spat, or tried to spit, because damn it, he wanted to be frustrated at Desmond's weird emotional human bullshit, but somehow he couldn't.

"I wanna be sure..." Desmond turned completely away and organized his thoughts before speaking again. "I wanna be sure you're doing this because you really want it. Because you really like doing these things with me. Not just 'cause I'm in a position of power over you in the Brotherhood, like it's a mission I asked you to do or some shit." He was staring at the doorknob, so he didn't see Alex approaching him and was a tiny bit startled when he laid a hand on his shoulder. He turned back and met a face that was incredibly solemn while still managing to be a little pissed off.

"Ugh. This is not about rank, Desmond. Not about the Brotherhood. We... I like being with you."

"You haven't been with anybody else," Desmond muttered angrily without thinking.

"Are you saying I should?"

Desmond gritted his teeth. _Way to go, genius._ "I'm not saying that. But... now that you know all your tabs and slots are pretty much compatible with human slots and tabs... if you want to try doing sex with other people, then go for it."

Alex tilted his head. "But there's more to sex than putting a tab in a slot. There has to be attraction."

"Well, yeah."

"Attraction to this." He lifted an arm and tendrilized it. For a moment, he took his eyes off of Desmond and watched the slow dance of black and red over each shiny surface waving through the air. "What human would look at me and feel attraction, rather than fear?"

Desmond still knew those tendrils could form deadly blades and bludgeons, but by now he knew they were capable of many other things as well. He remembered their warm touch on his face, their gentle exploration of his ass, their teasing flicks at his nipples, their steady strokes of his cock. "Me, for one," he said, grinning.

Alex snorted. "You're a rarity, Desmond Miles. A singularity. Would any other human want a monstrous bioweapon anywhere near their genitals?"

Desmond wasn't sure if this was a rhetorical question or not. "Well... Rebecca's pretty open-minded about sex stuff, from what I hear. Maybe she'd give your tentacles a whirl, bioweapon or not."

"I don't want to have sex with Rebecca." Alex stepped close to him again, his eyes fierce. "I want to have sex with you. Master Assassin or not."

"Really?" Desmond folded his arms. His grin was gone for the time being. "Because you seem kinda hesitant. Hesitant, but weirdly obedient too. It's hard to read that as consent."

"Ugh," Alex said again, grabbing Desmond's shoulders. "I. Am. Consenting. You. Stupid. Shit." He gave him a little shake with each word, then let go. "Sex is strange. But I want to do it anyway." He stared unflinchingly into Desmond's eyes. "With you."

The grin returned. "All righty then. I just wanted to be sure before we keep going with this fuckbuddy thing. So, uh, what specific type'a sex you wanting to do this time 'round?"

At this, Alex was silent. His eyes left Desmond's and roamed slowly down his body.

"Wanna just get a good eyeful while you think it over?" Desmond teased, stepping back and running his hands sensuously down his naked flanks from armpit to boxers.

"Yyyesss," Alex said in a primal rumble.

"Well then, lemme give you the full show." Desmond slipped thumbs under his waistband and tugged his bottoms down, then stepped out of them with a flourish. "As you can see, I'm, uh, already halfway there."

Alex inhaled deeply, then moved in and started to examine him in meticulous detail, with both his eyes and his oh-so-surprisingly-gentle hands.

Desmond just stood there, letting him fondle and feel his way over sculpted muscles, faded scars, bold inklines, bristly hair. If Alex was more comfortable with this type of foreplay than with making out, then so be it. Hell, he'd probably have a lot of fun returning the favor to Alex's body, and made a mental note to try that out; if not later tonight, then sometime soon.

From time to time, Alex let out a small noise of appreciation or intrigue. He slowly made his way down the broad [acuminate](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6a/Abdominal_hair_patterns_cmg.png) sprawl of Desmond's abdominal hair, finally crouching to be face-to-face with his semi-erect penis. He stared at it, one brow raised.

It twitched, as if aware of his gaze.

He poked the side of it softly, and Desmond stifled a snigger. "You've seen my cock before, dude."

"Not this close." Alex poked it again, testing its firmness, then ran a light finger-tendril along the underside. He began at the base of the shaft, where the skin was the same muted tan as the rest of Desmond's body, then traveled along, noting the slow change into rich brown with shades of mauvish-red.

Desmond let him explore there for a minute or two more, then offered a proposition. "Wanna taste it?"

"I already have," Alex replied casually.

"Uh, since fucking when? I think I'd remember if you sucked my cock before."

Alex glanced up at him. "I don't eat like a human," he said matter-of-factly. "I don't **taste** like a human."

"Umm."

"Humans can only taste with their oral cavities. I have no such limitations." Alex held out a hand, palm-up. "This has tasted your penis several times."

"Oh. Uh. That's weird, but okay." Desmond smiled crookedly. "You wanna try tasting it the human way?"

"Do you want me to?"

Desmond's smile widened. "Hey, most humans love blowjobs. And I'm one of those 'most humans'. But it's up to you."

The cock jumped a little in anticipation, and Alex felt a stirring within him. "All right. I'll try," he said, the words hoarse with unusual anxiety. "Perhaps I'm better at blowjobs than kissing."

Desmond sat down on the edge of the mattress and spread his knees. "If you're not good, or you don't like doing it, we can always stop and do something else, okay?"

Alex nodded and knelt down, placing one hand on either side of Desmond's waist. He watched the cock intently for a few seconds.

Desmond closed his eyes and breathed slowly. This part, having a guy knelt in submission before him, even before the blowjob actually started, was always a real rush. And with that guy being a powerful badass like Alex motherfucking Mercer, the psychological effect was magnified tenfold.

Alex lightly took hold of the hairy base of the cock to steady it.   _this organ- so tender- so intimate- strange- strained- sensitive- delicate- pulsing- could injure- but he wants- and I as well-_    Gently, hesitantly, all too afraid of erring, he put out his long tongue and curled it loose and ribbonlike around the head.

Desmond responded with a little surprised gasp. _Holy crap this is something else!_ his brain screamed. _Human tongues can't do that prehensile stuff, oh god if that's his tongue then imagine what the rest of his fucking mouth is like!?!_

Alex paused a moment, trying to judge if he should continue.

 _Oh god, he's scared, should we stop?_ Desmond took a ragged breath. _No, no, this is weird but it feels good. Let's keep fucking going._ His hand moved to meet one of Alex's, tracing warm and reassuring over his fingers.

 _he wants. he trusts._ Alex gripped Desmond's hand firmly, closed his eyes, and moved in open-mouthed.

"Ahh-a," Desmond said, the quiet jerky sound coming involuntarily as that most intimate-sensitive-delicate part of him was enveloped in warmth. Alex's mouth was _oh god, just like a real mouth, pure perfection, too good,_ all tongue and teeth and soft and slick and viscous and visceral-

Alex allowed himself a few, no, **more** than a few seconds to get acclimated to the heady feeling of cock-in-mouth. This was vastly different than anything he and Desmond had done before. Sans condom, bare skin, sweaty and pulsing with the rhythm of bloodflow, so intensely appealing and grossly disturbing... _strange- queer- shouldn't- sinful- but good- can't control- want- need- continue!_ At last he discarded his doubts and began to lick: gently at first, listening close to Desmond's pitch and volume to assure that he was on the right track, then more vigorously.

"Goh-od, Alex... You really, nh, never did this before?"

Alex pulled away, said "No," then plunged back into his task.

"Shit! You're, unh... real good!" Desmond barely managed to say, his brain concerned with other things besides language skills right now. His hands twitched and found their way to Alex's broad sloping shoulders, fingers kneading mindlessly into the dense flesh.

Alex scarcely noticed those fingers. He was absorbed in tactile study of Desmond's cock, sliding his tongue up and down over the varied veins and ridges, finding each spot fascinating and special, and the whole structure so delightfully idiosyncratic. The chemical climate in his mouth gradually changed as precum started to flow more freely. It felt so primal, so... utterly indescribable. _good- very good- stimulate- merge- together- spread- make more- yes- good- increase- multiply-_ chanted the unrelenting impulse within every cell of his body. Excitation vibrated through him with a low "Mmrrrm."

Desmond was also enjoying the fuck out of it, and made this well-known. "Ah! Right there. Ngh!"

The steady flow of gasped words and breathy grunts was music to Alex's ears. He devoted his mouth to pleasuring Desmond's cock even more so he could hear those precious sounds continue.

"Oh yeah, mmm... ah! Holy.... mff..." Desmond tugged at Alex's hair, trying to pull him up. He could feel himself hurtling towards the edge of a cliff at a million miles an hour. "Guh, I'm gonna, oh god- any second now-"

"Do it," Alex said, though the words were garbled.

"Ffff-" Desmond bit his lip and threw his head back, letting himself fly off the edge of that cliff into an orgasmic Leap of Faith.

Alex knew, roughly, what was coming, but still, as the first hot blast spurted into him, he was nearly floored by the intensity, the sheer audacity of it all: the taste, the power, the wasted potential of these myriad haploid cells all driven by a single goal they would never achieve.

He wondered briefly if he could break down the seminal DNA and absorb the memories contained within, but... _No._ He decided against attempting this. When consuming an enemy, he did not leer over their life like some obsessive stalker, but rather discarded anything not relevant to his goals. And Desmond was the furthest thing from an enemy, so his memories deserved even higher discretion.

Waves of heat whirled through their joined bodies. Desmond's fingers were firmly locked in that turbulent mop of hair, his breath coming in heavy pants as he deflated, hunching over, till he was curled forward and touching his chin to the top of Alex's head.

Alex pried Desmond's clenched fingers off him with a few strategic tendrils, then disengaged from his spent member.

"Oh god, Alex." Desmond fell backwards onto the bed, exhausted, chest heaving slowly.

Alex smacked his lips, licked away a stray dribble. "Interesting."

"Fucking **amazing**."

Again, Alex wasn't sure how to respond to the compliment, and settled for just a pointless "Thank you" again.

"No, thank **you**. Geez. And you... you swallowed," Desmond said, just now realizing this as Alex rose from his crouch.

"...Yes."

"I thought you... can't eat?"

Alex smirked. "I consume, Desmond. Flesh or semen, it's all the same. It's all biologic material."

Desmond groaned and rubbed his face. "God, you're weird."

"Mm." Alex lifted Desmond up and hugged him close. "Weird, and still horny. Payback time," he whispered, his entire body throbbing with want. Just like any other biologic material he absorbed, the jizz had invigorated him, filled him with life.

It would be a long while before he came to realize that this time, it had filled him with life in another way as well.

 

* * *

 

Desmond winced a little as he took a seat next to Rebecca for breakfast.

Though the expression of pain was minor and fleeting, she didn't fail to notice and comment on it. "Butt hurt, Desdes?"

Desmond was miffed at the nickname, but that wasn't the entire reason why he took a few seconds to answer. "...Sprained a muscle sparring with Alex."

"Reeaaaallly?" Rebecca said, suppressing a smile. "Do tell."

Desmond looked away. "Nothin' to tell. He's just a lot stronger and heavier than I am."

Rebecca rolled her eyes and mumble-chuckled something inaudibly.

"What's that?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing."


	16. Ease Me Out Of My Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex complained that Desmond didn't know him. So Desmond is trying to fix that, ~~to free minds and bodies both.~~
> 
> Meanwhile, Alex has some more emotions.

"Hey, is it true Blacklight was invented from out of pregnant women?"

Alex was sprawled sideways on his couch, eyes shut, completely motionless. Anyone ignorant of his viral biology would have thought he was dead, judging from his catatonia and pallor, and, additionally, would have wondered why the man at the table wasn't bothered by having a corpse in the same room with him.

At Desmond's words, though, Alex came out of his couch trance and looked up. "Invented from... out of?" he slowly repeated, too stymied by the strange wording of the question to consider its actual subject.

By way of explanation, Desmond gestured to the laptop in front of him. "I'm lookin' over some files hacked from Blackwatch servers. They're kinda incomplete, though, so I can't really get a clear picture of things. But," he tapped the screen, "says here there was a bunch of preggos infected in some experiment in the sixties and-"

"Project Hope," Alex said, his eyes glazing over. He remembered- without trying or wanting to- the horrific things that happened in that town. The twisted science performed. The suffering. The death. The terror.

Desmond nodded. "Yeah. So maybe pregnancy is, like, something encoded into the virus, maybe that's why you're able to-"

"Almost all the Hope children died in early childhood due to unstable mutations," Alex said without thinking, his voice monotone.

Desmond's face fell in horror. "Fuck. You think our kid..." He couldn't finish the sentence.

Alex shook his head and blinked, eyes refocusing on Desmond. "Nah, Little Shit's gonna be all right. I'm a different strain of the virus from that one. Vastly different."

"Oh." Desmond visibly relaxed. "That's good."

"'Good'. You think that's 'good'."

"Of course, dumbass!"

Alex shot him a caustic sneer. "Thought you didn't want to be saddled with a baby. You tried to talk me out of keeping him."

Desmond pursed his lips. "Well yeah, but since then, the idea's kinda grown on me," he admitted. "And I sure as hell don't want to have him be born, stick around a little bit and then fucking die."

Alex laughed. "It's your human biological imperative. Despite homosexuality, you can't escape the deep-seated drive to perpetuate the species."

"Hey, I wouldn't talk trash about my humanity when it's your, um, virosity that made this happen in the first place," Desmond said through a smile.

"I wasn't 'talking trash.'"

Desmond chuckled. "Relax, I know you weren't. And anyway, I don't think 'perpetuate the species' really applies here. I mean, this kid's, like, a hybrid, something totally new, right?"

"Mm." Alex's eyes went to a faraway place again.

Desmond returned to his reading. The calm silence was only broken by soft keyboard clicks for several minutes until-

"Holy crap, Alex!"

"What."

"You're way older than I thought, man."

"Am I?"

"Uh, yeah. Check this shit." Desmond turned his laptop so the screen faced away from him.

Alex got up from the couch. "What shit?"

"A bio written up by some Blackwatch peeps. Hope you don't mind me reading it?"

Alex stared down at the screen. "Mercer, Alexander J," he read out quietly. "Date of birth: July 16, 1979."

"That makes you thirty-four!" Desmond said, eyes wide. "Fuck, man, I thought you were maybe **thirty** at the max! This is, like... goddamn! I always told myself I wasn't into older dudes!"

"July 16," Alex repeated.

"Yeah, you'll be thirty- **five**! Insane!"

"Little Shit will be one month."

Desmond's gaze briefly fell to Alex's stomach- no longer a proto-bump but a real honest-to-goodness **bump** \- before returning to his face. "Uh, yeah. I mean, assuming that due date holds up. Which I think it won't, but can we get back on the topic of your age? Because that's kinda weirding me out more than the pregnant man thing right now."

"That," Alex jabbed a finger at the screen, "is not my birthday."

"Oh, they typoed it? It's really '89, not '79? That's a relief. Heh."

"He isn't me, Des."

Desmond threw up his hands. "Oh, come on, this again?! That **is** you, dumbass; the picture's from when you worked at Gentek, before you turned into a freaky virus guy, I mean, sure you're not 'human' anymore but you're still Alex J. Mercer!"

"No, I'm not really, Des." Alex held his hands up and stared into the palms. "Sure I look a bit like him on the outside, but inside, I'm not even human."

"Stop that." Desmond got up, stepped around the little table, and wrapped Alex's hands in his own. "You're a person, Alex. Don't ever stop thinking of yourself as a person. Human or not, you're a person."

Alex's face was soft but his eyes were hard as he looked up at Desmond. " **That** person," he jigged his head at the laptop, "is dead."

Desmond gave a half-smile, trying to stay at least somewhat upbeat. "You seem pretty alive to me. I remember when we first ran into you. You introduced yourself as Alex Mercer, didn't you?"

Alex looked miffed. "A name taken out of self-delusion, and kept out of convenience. Dr. Mercer was simply the first person Blacklight consumed before gaining sentience, and then it mistook his identity for its own. It copied his appearance-"

"Don't start referring to yourself in the third person!" Desmond interrupted.

"Fine. **I** mistook his identity-"

Desmond stopped Alex again by stroking his cheek gently. "C'mon, bae. We could go back and forth with this all day, or we could just agree that you're the guy I fell in love with, and I know you as Alex Mercer, so that's who you are."

Alex turned even paler than usual. "L- love."

Desmond realized it a second later. "Woah.... um." An awkward smile appeared on his face. "I, uh... Yeah, I guess, somewhere along the line of our crazy friends-to-fuckbuddies-to-fathers thing, I kinda fell in love with you, Alex.... Unless you don't wanna be called Alex due to your big identity crisis here."

"I... No, I'll stick with that name." Alex mirrored Desmond's smile briefly before returning to an expression of unsteady ire. "Listen, though: Dr. Mercer is a wholly different person from me. I... have some of his memories. But I have memories from scores of other people too, so that means nothing."

Desmond frowned. "Than what about Dana? Is she not your sister?"

"Oh..." Caught in a semi-loophole, Alex growled a wry chuckle. "Fine. You got me there, Des." He pulled back from Desmond and leant against the wall, his body a cold collection of stiff angles. "Whatever. Doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters," Desmond said. His lips quivered a bit as he spoke. "It's important to know who you are, Alex. Take it from me. I know what it's like to have ghosts in your head, to confuse your own memories with the memories of dead- Oww!"

Alex had just smacked away Desmond's hands as they reached to hug him. "This is not the same!" he roared. "You've always been Desmond Miles! You didn't **die** when you were hooked up to the Animus! You weren't replaced with a copy, a clone, an instrument of biological warfare!" Desmond shrank back into his chair as Alex loomed over him. "I may call myself 'family' to Dana Mercer, but..." His fists shook at his side, pulsed slightly with contained rage. "Who and what I've become- both physically and mentally- it's so very different than that man, Desmond."

Desmond swallowed. "You... you mean you **died** that day in Penn Station?" _Holy fuck. So he's a zombie just like the rest of them. Just with a hella lot more of a personality._

"No," Alex said, and his voice was like a scalpel, precise and cold. " **He** died. I was **born**."

"Umm," Desmond faltered.

"I thought you knew this. I am a virus. _Nigraluciviridae_. Which means I am not _Homo sapiens._ And especially not **that** _Homo sapiens_." Alex thrust out a hand toward the laptop, referring to the late doctor. "I thought you knew this," he said again with a certain slow disappointment.

"Umm. I..." Desmond's throat was dry and he could barely speak. He realized, a bit late, that Alex might not like Dr. Mercer's photo staring him in the face and quickly shut the laptop lid. "Uh... I can tell this is a sore subject for you, so, let's just... forget it, okay?"

"I don't forget. I **can't**." In a rare feat, Alex's voice actually broke on that last word.

Despite the chill he'd felt only seconds before, Desmond was so moved by the show of emotion that he jumped back to his feet and gave Alex the hug he'd started before. "Metaphorically forget, okay, Alex, okay? Metaphorically."

Alex just rested his head limply on Desmond's shoulder, face buried in the folds of his shirt.

Desmond patted his back. "Look, this, uh... this is a bit of a surprise for me."

"Told you before," Alex mumbled into his shirt.

"Yeah, I remember you saying you're not Dr. Mercer, but... I took it to mean you'd, uh, moved past the part of your life where you worked for Gentek and designed bioweapons and shit."

Alex made a heavy sound full of disgust and sadness.

Desmond realized he'd just indirectly called his boyfriend "shit", albeit idiomatically. "Jesus, don't take it literal!"

Alex made the sound again.

"Right, sorry, okay. You're a really literal guy. I should know that by now." Desmond exhaled a sigh, patting Alex's back again. "So when you said you're not Dr. Mercer... Sorry." A trembling hand crept around to the small of Desmond's back: Alex trying to return the hug. Desmond felt himself smiling faintly. "Look, it's... a little weird for me to suddenly find out you're not who I thought. But then again, you're still the same person you were when I met you, so... this doesn't really change our relationship, does it?"

Alex didn't say anything in response.

"So, uh, just so I'm clear, you're... the Blacklight virus. I mean I knew you were," he added hastily, "but I thought you were a human that got turned into it."

"No. Always the virus," Alex growled, gripping Desmond a little tighter. "Never human. Just the product of a twisted human's experiment. I'm not Alex Mercer. I'm _Nigraluciviridae,_ DX-1118C variant."

"...And I thought 'Ratonhnhaké:ton' was a mouthful," Desmond said, making a joke to ward off the heartache creeping up on him. "Can I keep calling you Alex Mercer anyway? It rolls off my tongue a lot easier. The Gentek dude can just be some guy who happens to be named the same."

Alex pulled away and looked up at him.

Desmond was struck by how eternally tired those blue eyes seemed, no matter how many regenerative naps he took, and that was kind of a lot these days. He moved a hand down along the front of Alex's shirt to his belly, which he figured might be the reason for that increase. "Okay, to reiterate: You're Alex Mercer, and I love you, and we're having a big gay baby together. Is that all right?"

"All right," Alex said hoarsely, and rested a hand atop Desmond's. "It's just... I don't-" The sentence gasped to a halt and his mouth opened in a wide twitching O.

"What? What's wrong?" 

"Li... Little Shit..." Alex's eyes were brighter now, glistening. "He's moving."

Desmond stared down at Alex's stomach. "Really? I don't feel-"

"Here." Alex pulled Desmond's hand across to the other side. "Wait a moment. There!"

Desmond let out a "Holy hell!" as something jabbed his palm. The sensation was small and brief, but he had a feeling he would never forget it.

"He's strong," Alex said, the smile back on his face again.

"You're tellin' me." Desmond crouched down and pressed his other hand as well against Alex's stomach, hoping to feel more movements. "Hey kid," he said, voice cracking slightly. "Can you hear me in there?"

"Probably," Alex answered in the baby's stead.

Desmond chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, I bet he's been listening in on us for a long while. Practicing eavesdropping like a proper Assassin already, huh? So, kid, d'you recognize this voice? It's me. I'm... your daddy."

"What does that make me, then?" Alex said, slight anger nascent in his rumbling tone.

"Uhhh. You're also 'daddy' I guess, unless you wanna be 'papa' or something. Oh, there he goes again! Man!" Desmond laughed with a huge smile.

"Papa," Alex repeated slowly, then shook his head. "Nah. Doesn't feel quite right."

"Well, we got a while before he starts talking, so we can delay the parental name thingy for a while."

"Mm."

Desmond sucked in air sharply through his teeth. "God, we're really gonna have a baby. I still barely believe it."

"You've seen him. You've heard his heartbeat. And now you've felt him. What more proof do you need?"

Desmond shook his head. "I know, I know, it's just, it's so ridiculous." He felt a rush of sharp kicks, more quick and zealous than the earlier ones, and pulled his hands away in fright. "Jesus! Good thing you're you, Alex, 'cause he's really fucking going at it in there. Or she."

"Naw," Alex said. "Little Shit's a boy. I can feel it."

"You can feel it, huh? Then what was that crap about 'let's name her Elizabeth'?"

Alex paused and considered his response. "Couldn't feel it before," he finally said.

"Okay.... then maybe you could stop calling him Little Shit and start calling him Deon already."

"I haven't exactly agreed to that name."

Desmond smirked. "Well, it's growing on me more every day, so if you got another idea, you better tell me now if you want it to have a fighting chance."

Alex returned the smirk. "Look at you, assuming you're gonna have the final say. I'm the one growing him, shouldn't I get to name him?"

"Well then, go ahead." Desmond raised one eyebrow. "Tell me all your amazing name ideas."

Alex's mouth opened, froze for a long second, then clamped shut again.

Desmond laughed. "You have no clue! I knew it."

Alex looked away, mumbled something.

"Whassat?"

"Ellis."

"What."

"Ellis."

Desmond snickered. "Pfft. That's lame."

"Is not."

"Yeah it is, it's just you took Elizabeth and turned it boyish."

"Forget Elizabeth!" Alex snapped. "Ellis is a good name in its own right!"

"All right, all right.... How about we compromise, use Ellis as the middle name? Deon Ellis?"

Alex blinked a couple of times. "I... Yes. That's acceptable."

"Okay then." Desmond shot Alex's belly a bright smile. "It's official, li'l guy. You're Deon Ellis Mercer-Miles," he proclaimed.

Alex felt another flutter of motion inside himself and drew in a short breath. He staggered backwards, away from Desmond, and leaned against the wall. _A name. An identity. Progeny set apart from progenitor. We're growing a body within ourselves, an independent body, independent mind, independent thoughts, independent life..._

Desmond's smile melted away. "Is something wrong?"

Some wall was now freshly torn down in Alex's psyche, unleashing a torrent of jarring emotions and pained memories. _Anxiety, excitement, hope, Hope, Elizabeth, Hunters, Dana, Desmond, Deon, Dad, depression, divorce-_ He squeezed the side of his head tightly, as if to stem the flood.

"Don't worry, bae, we... we can pick another name if you-"

"No!" Alex grunted. "Not that!" _Psychopathic disregard for others, narcissistic world-view..._

Desmond approached him cautiously. "What's going on?"

"I'm... I can't!" Alex said shakily. Images flashed before him, of the short-lived Hope children, of his parents fighting, of innocents shot through the head, of a tiny infant held in someone's shaking hands. "No. How? There's no way!"

"What are you- Oh shit." Desmond stepped closer and took gentle hold of Alex's arm. "You're having that thing, aren't you?" He waved a finger at his head. "With the memories, like your version of the Bleeding Effect?"

Alex managed to give an anguished nod.

Desmond grimaced. "Jesus, Alex. Can I help? What do you need?"

"I can't!" Alex said again, louder this time, trying to drown out the mocking echoes inside him. _-don't really strike me as parent material- be a terrible dad, y'know? -end up murdilating our kid!_ "I can't. Be. A parent." He spat the words out brokenly. "I destroy. I kill. That's it."

"No, no, c'mon, Alex, don't-" Desmond broke off, momentarily unable to speak.

Alex tried to pull away. "I'm a monster."

Desmond held firm to his arm. "Don't say that, Alex. You're a good guy. A good **person**. You're... different than most people, yeah, but you're still **good**."

"Good at killing," Alex muttered.

Then he went limp and fell against Desmond, who wobbled under the sudden weight. "Shit, man, I can't hold you up, you weigh a ton, c'mon, pull y'self together!"

"Des," a strangled sob escaped Alex as he allowed himself to be dragged to the couch and sat down.

"I'm here, all right? I'm here for you." Desmond sat down next to him and rubbed his back cautiously. "You're not gonna kill him. He's gonna be all right, you said it yourself."

"Des, I can't. A **child**. I can't."

Desmond sighed with empathy. "Look, it's okay to be worried about fucking something up. Believe me, I'm worried as hell! I sure don't have any experience with babies! I mean, unless you count..." He trailed off, then chuckled. "No, that stuff definitely doesn't count."

Alex gave him a wide-eyed stare. "What doesn't count?"

"Just some Animus shit," Desmond said with a shrug.

"What Animus shit," Alex asked, suddenly intense, desperate for anything. "Tell me."

"Really, it's seriously not anything helpful. But if you insist... ummm, first off, I had to be born as Ezio for some reason. And then later there was a Bleeding Effect with Altaïr knocking up Maria; they fucked in a nasty-ass pile of hay, ugh, I mean, come on, I know they had **beds** in the twelfth century! And then Haytham [goin' all up in Ziio's sacred cave](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1053622/chapters/2120185) to make Connor..." He put on a disgusted grin. "Hell, for a lifelong fag, I sure have experienced being in a lot of vaginas, even discounting Ezio's playboy days."

The humorosity of it all seemed to have calmed down Alex somewhat, but he still looked a bit shaken.

Desmond exhaled and went back to serious mode. "Look, Alex... Mom told me parenthood is scary. But she also told me she thought I'd do a good job. We might not win any parent of the year awards, but I think we'll manage not to screw it up too much." He gave Alex another firm pat on the back. "And, with all the people you've got absorbed in your mind, don't you think maybe some of them had parenting skills?"

Alex exhaled and got up from the couch, went to stare out the window. "I remember... Dana."

This seemed like a strange topic shift, but Desmond rolled with it. "Uh, what about her?"

"When she was a baby. Born nine years after... her brother."

Desmond nodded contemplatively. "You watched her grow up. Probably helped change a few diapers and stuff, I bet."

"I didn't. **He** did."

"Shit, okay, sorry. Still... you've got his memories, right? So you do have experience with kids after all. It's just secondhand."

Alex leaned against the window. "I don't remember much. Bits and pieces. Fragments. Flashes." This wasn't the complete truth. Sometimes, at night, he remembered long stretches of Dana's childhood. In vivid awful detail. Desmond didn't need to hear about those parts, though.

"Well, it's a start. Probably more useful than my Animus shit in terms of parenting instruction."

"Des." Alex turned around. "...you think he'll like me?"

This was another topic shift. "Who, Deon? Aw." Desmond stood up and wrapped his arms tightly around Alex. "Of course he will, you fabulous freak."

"I'm... a freak."

Desmond pulled away and gave him a big smile. "Well, yeah, in that you're unusual. Special. Unique." He returned to the hug and added, "But that doesn't mean you gotta be so insecure all the time. I'm sure he'll like you plenty. I mean, you're his dad, you're the whole reason he exists." Desmond chuckled. "Well, I had a part in it too, but you're doing the heavy lifting. As usual."

"Mm." Alex stood there, enveloped in the arms of his lover. _Lover..._ He considered the word that had appeared in his mind as the man in question rubbed his warm cheek against Alex's face. _Yes_ , he finally decided with a soft chuckle. The word did fit, and not just because they were in a sexual relationship. Desmond had taken him under his wing; had shown him nothing but care and camaraderie; had never judged him lesser for the fact of his biology; had given him so much and asked for so little in return. "Thank you," he said, and turned his head to plant a short kiss on Desmond's lips.

The short kiss became a longer one, and Desmond, pleasantly surprised, returned it with vim and vigor, the fingers of one hand threading through Alex's luscious hair, the other kneading at his back. Their bodies locked together in a passion that transcended speech, wordlessly communicating their devotion to each other.

When at last the impromptu makeout session ended, Desmond let out a gasping laugh. "Fucking hell, Alex. Y'know, it's true, you didn't used to be great at kissing, but that was pretty awesome!"

"I'm always evolving," Alex said with a slight laugh.

"Perks of having a virus boyfriend, I guess. Plus you don't hog the bathroom!" Desmond laughed again. "Speaking of which, I kinda need to-"

Alex waved a hand toward the bathroom door. "Go ahead."

"You sure you're over your big... emotion thing you just had? I don't want you busting out any more windows."

"Aw, I won't." Alex settled himself back on the couch, one hand on his belly. "Have to set a good example for him. Can't hurt the innocent buildings, remember?"

Desmond chuckled and went to relieve himself. When he returned, he opened the laptop again and scrolled through the rest of the Blackwatch dossier on the-Alex-that-wasn't-Alex. After a while, he looked up and asked, "What does the J stand for?"

"Huh?"

Desmond grinned. "In Alex J. Mercer, duh. What's the J?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "J stands for John. I hate the name John. Boring. Pedestrian."

"Well, it's just your middle name, you don't have to like it. I mean, my middle name's Francis, can you believe that? **Francis**. Ech." Desmond stuck out his tongue.

"It's his middle name. Not mine."

"Right, right." Desmond came to sit on the arm of the couch behind Alex's head. "Fine. You're a different guy. Pick your own damn middle name, then, to distinguish yourself."

Alex looked thoughtful for a moment. Then a smile began playing on his lips and he turned to Desmond. "Zeus."

"What? Zeus? You're joking."

"Nnnope."

"But that's- that's just a stupid codename-"

"Not stupid," Alex countered. "Ruler of the Greek pantheon. Powerful shapeshifter. Had lots of sex. It's fitting."

"But still!" Desmond sputtered. "They just fuckin' assigned you that name!"

Alex shrugged. "Parents assign names to their children."

"Are Blackwatch your parents now?"

Alex answered the silly question with undue seriousness. "Yes, in a sense. Gentek's virus research was military funded."

Desmond blinked. "So you... wouldn't exist without them."

"That asshole doctor might still be kicking around, but not me, correct."

"Holy hell."

Alex gave him a pointed look. "Is that so disturbing?"

"Well, they're the bad guys. Our enemies. Honestly, I never really thought past that." Desmond rubbed the back of his neck. "And now I gotta wrap my brain around them being the reason I have you in my life. I mean, I like you. A lot."

"Every cloud has a silver lining," Alex quipped, then paused briefly at another movement inside him.

Desmond smiled. It was adorable to see Alex this stunned by something so small and relatively normal. He was usually a complete stoic, the epitome of seen-it-all-before. "Feels weird, huh? Having a living thing inside you?"

Alex shook his head. "I've had that before, with the Blackwatch parasite. But this... This is a whole other ballgame." He made a small humming sound- either contentment or contemplation, Desmond couldn't tell- then said, "By the way. The age thing."

"Yeah?"

"Technically I was born- 'came into being', rather- in 2008."

Desmond blinked, then did a brief count on his fingers. "So you're... five?"

"Technically, yes."

Desmond shuddered and covered his face. "Great, now this relationship is a whole different sort of creepy."

"Come on, Des," Alex said, gently elongating the words. "You can't apply the human concept of age to me."

"I uh, I guess not." Desmond peeked between his fingers to look down at him with fresh eyes.

Alex evaporated his hoodie and tapped his head. "This body is chronologically five, but my mind... it's quite mature. Mature enough that, just a few minutes ago, you said you'd trust my parenting skills."

"Yeah, but you... the dude you were based off of... How come you don't look his age?"

"I look the age he **was**." Alex brushed a hand over his hair and gave Desmond a sultry smile. "Tell me you wouldn't make your body look eternally twenty-nine if you could."

"That's... gonna get kinda weird down the line, probably. I mean, assuming we stay together long-term..."

"Mm." Alex traced his fingers lightly along Desmond's face. "For you, Des, I'm sure I can simulate aging."


	17. What You Need and Everything You Feel

"Twenty-fourteen."

"Yeah."

Silence.

Well... not really "silence". There was still the omnipresent roar of the crowd; the incessant honking and ringing of various noisemakers; the wailing jam of some shit-pop band on the big stage.

But all these sounds were worn down to a dull drone by the time they'd traveled up, up, up to Desmond and Alex.

"Twenty-fourteen," Desmond said again. He'd had a grin permanently etched on his face all day. "I honest-to-god thought I wasn't gonna live to see twenty-thirteen, and now... twenty-fuckin'- **fourteen**!"

"Yeah. In twelve more minutes." Alex's hand twitched on the rooftop. "Little Shit's all antsed-up about it too, apparently."

"What, is he bopping along to the music?"

Alex shook his head. "Just kind of... rolling around, restless. Ugh." His hand twitched again at the eerie sensations.

Desmond rolled over from relaxing on his back and looked at Alex, pupils wide. "He's not, like, trying to make his way out, is he? Is he?" His voice was high and frantic.

"No, Des." Alex patted his lover's head to relax him.

Desmond panted out a relieved laugh. "Good, because I do **not** feel up to delivering a baby all by myself half-buzzed at midnight on a fucking skyscraper!"

"Mrm."

Desmond sat up and looked at the big clock over Times Square again, watching the seconds tick down.

Alex just stared up into the endless sky. A stray lyric, _where human love seems strange_ , floated past his ears.

There were nine minutes to midnight.

"Weird phrase, y'know... 'delivering a baby'."

"Hrm?"

"Doesn't really make sense to say a doctor 'delivers' a baby, does it?" Desmond looked at Alex. "I mean, the woman- or uh, whoever's pregnant- they're the one really bringing the package. Bringing it to life."

Alex nodded with a grumble of agreement, twitching his hand to his belly.

"Still rolling around and shit?"

"Yeah. Wish he'd calm the fuck down."

Desmond leant his head against Alex's shoulder and placed a hand beside his. "Calm the fuck down, calm the fuck down," he sang in a slow mock-lullaby, rubbing in soft little circles. "Listen to Daddy, and calm the fuck down."

Weirdly enough, this soon soothed the child, and Alex actually smiled. "Nice."

"You're welcome." Desmond wrapped an arm around him. "Can't imagine how fucked-up it feels when he's beating on your guts."

There were six and a half minutes to midnight.

"Technically I don't have 'guts'."

"Huh?"

"Guts. Entrails. Intestines. Don't have 'em."

"Right, right, because the no-eating... yeah." Desmond thought a moment, calling on his anatomical knowledge. "But you have a butthole. Does it just not go anywhere?" 

Alex was perplexed by this line of inquiry. "It goes inside me."

"And what's inside you, then?"

"Undifferentiated biomass. You've felt it, right? Whenever you..." Alex trailed off, somehow unable to find a verb.

Desmond chuckled. "Whenever I fuck you, you mean."

Alex gave a tiny nod. "Correct."

"I thought you just had tentacles up your ass." Desmond shrugged. "Makes as much sense as anything else."

"Makes no sense to have fragile human organs when I don't have to." To illustrate his point, Alex flash-formed a Hidden Blade and stabbed himself right in the chest.

"Jesus fuck!"

Alex pulled the blade out, leaving a mooshy hole that closed up near-instantly. "It's all interchangeable biomass. No organs means no weak spots for enemies to target."

"What about this?" Desmond pointed at the obvious bulge resembling a swallowed soccerball. (He kept almost wondering how Alex's clothes managed to cover it without bursting a seam, but then he'd remember they weren't really clothes, just a kind of second skin.)

Alex chuckled and leaned back, folding his hands under his head. "He's the exception."

There were three minutes to midnight.

Desmond scooted closer, worry lines creasing his brow. "If you got hurt there... Deon's only half-Blacklight. Would he heal up same way you do, or..."

 _I don't know_ , Alex almost answered, but the look in Desmond's eyes let him know not to. "Don't worry. Won't happen." He hardened the skin of his belly into a shield and knocked on it with a dull clunk. "I'm protecting him."

Desmond smiled. "Good." He curled up against Alex's radiating warmth, laid an arm across his belly as it softened back to normal. "You're good at that. Protecting people."

Alex detected the buzz of an approaching helicopter and ground his teeth in irritation. In one fluid motion he sat up, scooped Desmond into arms that were a basket woven of Blacklight, and rolled across the roof to a crevice where they would be hidden from the eyes in the sky.

"Case in point," Desmond laughed as the basket unwove from around him. "You could warn me next time, though. I feel kinda vomity after that surprise somersault." A burp tinged with vodka-scent popped from his mouth.

Laying half-underneath him, Alex chuckled. "My bad."

The music had stopped.

A rush of wind blew into their crevice, and Desmond, shivering, hugged Alex close again.

Alex pulled out one side of his pseudojacket, stretching it out to blanket Desmond's torso. _so delicate- yet so strong- so just right-_ "The ball is dropping. Do you want to watch it?"

Desmond thought a moment, then shook his head. "I like the view right where I am," he said, twirling a bit of Alex's hair around one finger.

"You're not bad-looking yourself."

Randomly, the baby kicked again, and Desmond, pressed up so close against the source of the motion, felt it almost like it came from inside him. "Oof! Man. Twenty-fourteen's gonna be a hell of a year with Deon turning our lives upside down, huh?"

In lieu of reply, Alex tugged him into a kiss. It was gentle and sweet, with just a cautious bit of tongue. Desmond loved this; being privy to the secret sensual side of New York's most wanted killer.

The streets below them erupted with chaotic screams of jubilance, but they hardly heard it.

Alex separated from Desmond's lips a moment to whisper, "Happy New Year."

"Same to you," Desmond breathed.

 

* * *

 

Aside from New Year's Eve, they didn't really get much chance to kick back and relax. Their various enemies- the Templars, the Infected, Blackwatch, and there were also whispers of a weird little thing called the Instruments of the First Will- weren't going to take a break just 'cause Alex was pregnant.

Desmond was pretty sure they didn't even know. He figured that at the very least, Blackwatch didn't know, or else they'd have heard something about it on the radio scanner. And if the Infected knew, they sure as hell weren't gabbing about it.

He worried that would change soon, though. There were enough camera-equipped detector drones flying around that one of them was bound sooner or later to capture an unambiguous image of Alex's jutting gut. If luck was on their side, then just maybe Deon's existence wouldn't be revealed until years down the line, when he was old enough to go out and wreak havoc like his father.

"I don't wreak havoc," Alex contested. "I serve the light now."

"Whatever, you know what I mean. Go out in the field and stuff." Desmond lifted a flat rock, but only found bugs.

"It won't be under there."

"I'm just being thorough is all." Desmond dropped the rock back down and stood up. "I can't believe your stupid sister just lost it in the middle of Central Park."

"Not stupid. And not the middle. She clearly said 'north-east quadrant'."

Desmond groaned. " **And** I can't believe my fuckin' Eagle Vision won't pick up on it!"

Alex was methodically combing through the grass, tremendously calm in comparison to Desmond's frustration. "What did you expect? USB sticks don't have allegiances."

"It's a USB stick fulla sensitive Assassin info!" Desmond hissed quietly. "It really should show up the same as a treasure chest or something!"

"Here it- Oh. No." It was an empty cigarette lighter. Alex chucked it in a low arc and it _ping_ ed into a trash can.

Desmond collapsed onto a park bench. "Shit, shit, shit. Some fucker probably picked it up and got it plugged into their laptop as we speak."

"Maybe."

Desmond sighed. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.

Hey there guys~ You're OK to RTB, I found it in my other pants pocket. Whoops!

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Desmond screeched, gripping the phone tensely. "In your other pants pocket?! We were out here an hour for **nothing**?!"

Alex got up from the ground and stretched his arms. "You should be happy. This means it's not plugged into some fucker's laptop."

"Ughhh. Fine." Desmond stood and kicked the flat rock from earlier downhill into the creek.

 

* * *

 

Alex's face twitched and he sniffed the air as they approached the door to their suite.

"Wasn't me," Desmond said, reaching out to turn the knob.

"No, there's-"

He wasn't able to get the rest of the sentence out, because the moment the door was open, a multi-person yell of "Surprise!!" hit them.

Desmond flung his blade arm up on instinct, but a microsecond later his brain realized he wasn't in danger and allowed him to stand down the defense. "What the..." He blinked at the gaudy streamers hung across the ceiling, at the bow-bedecked boxes and bags.

Alex leaned into his ear. "There's people in our suite."

"Yeah, I... I see that now." Desmond's eyes flicked around in their sockets, taking stock of the scene. Both his parents were there, as well as Rebecca, Dana, Shaun, and Ragland.

Dana came up and clapped Alex on the shoulder. "Aw, there's no sneaking anything past your super senses, bro. But Desmond looks like he's surprised enough for the both of ya!"

A switch connected in Desmond's brain. "Oh! This is a baby shower!" He laughed. "You sneaky motherfuckers. That mission was just an excuse to get us outta here while you-- oh man." He laughed again and repeated, "Sneaky motherfuckers."

Janet gave him a good-natured tap on his arm. "Watch your dirty mouth, mijito. No quiero mi nieto picking up those words."

Alex grinned at her and countered with "Isn't everything permitted?"

Janet rolled her eyes but shrugged, conceding the point. 

Rebecca clapped her hands for attention. "All right, you guys wanna do games or presents first?"

"Games?" Desmond sounded unsure of the very concept. "What kinda games?"

"Well there's the baby food eating contest." Rebecca moved aside and pointed at a tray of little glass jars, each with a colorful substance inside. Dana grabbed them up and handed one out to each person, plus a little spoon.

Alex considered his jar. The label professed it to be "100% Natural Sweet Potato, Orange, & Pineapple".

"Can I swap with you?" Desmond asked him. "I got fucking 'Apple & Green Beans'. Whose idea was that combo? I hope they got fired."

Alex obligingly switched jars with him. "So it's whoever finishes their jar first wins. That it?" he said, looking to Dana for confirmation.

"Yeah." She looked around the room. "Everyone got a jar and a spoon? Okay, ready, and.... go!"

There were a few seconds of frantically flurrying arms as people twisted off their lids with varying levels of difficulty, and then started spooning each weird mix of mashed foods into their mouths.

Alex, however, just wrenched the lid off and chugged the contents in one gulp. "Done."

Rebecca frowned. "That's cheating!"

Alex let go of the jar and it clunked onto the floor. "You didn't say we were required to use the spoons."

"He's got you there," Dr. Ragland chuckled.

"All right," Rebecca sighed. "Maybe we should just move on to presents now."

"Fine by me," Desmond said, sitting down on the couch to savor the rest of his fruity goop. (It was surprisingly good.)

"First off, we got these." Dana brought forth two largish flat boxes tied with wide ribbons. "One for you, and one for you."

While Alex just stared at the box in his lap, seemingly not comprehending what he should do with it, Desmond untied the ribbon on his and opened it to see a dark charcoal grey shirt. "Trouble Maker?" Below the words was a minimalistic image of a baby.

"Yeah, it goes with Alex's." Rebecca nudged him with her elbow. "C'mon. I hope I got a good size."

Desmond gaped at her like " **This** is what that text message was about?"

Alex opened his box to a similar shirt, only his said "Here Comes Trouble" and had a cutesy arrow pointing to the belly part. "You want me to wear this."

"No, they want you to use it as a cleaning rag," Shaun said.

Desmond went ahead and put on the shirt over the one he was already wearing. "C'mon, bae, wear it just a little?" He made pleading eyes at Alex.

"...Fine." Alex morphed away his pseudoshirt and pseudojackets- a few of the room's occupants flinched when they saw his naked belly, because goddamn, it looked so much more **real** when it wasn't covered- and slipped the real actual shirt on. "Are you happy now."

"I've been happy for a while, man," Desmond said, and hugged him spontaneously.

There came an "Aw" from Rebecca, and the click of a photo being taken by Dana.

"Don't fucking 'aw'." Alex squirmed out of the hug. "Don't take any more pictures without warning me either."

"We just want to capture the memory," Janet said, smiling. "Alex, has anyone ever told you your hair is muchísimo lindo?"

Alex curled his lip at her. "No quiero parecer 'lindo'."

"Holy crap, you know Spanish?!" Desmond sounded so surprised it bordered on anger.

Alex turned to him. "Sí, por supuesto," he replied smoothly, although you could tell from his eyes he was a little surprised as well. "El lenguaje... es una habilidad como cualquier otra. Los doctores García y Ruiz, los tenientes Martínez y Tapia: Juntos, ellos me dieron la fluidez." His irritation had now mercifully receded.

Frustrated, Desmond rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Okay, I didn't catch any of that except a bunch of Spanish names, which I'm guessing are some people you've eaten."

Alex chuckled. "Consumido."

"Oh, I understood **that**!" Desmond laughed, wagging a finger. "Check it out, Mom, with this guy's help, maybe I will learn some Spanish after all!"

Rebecca held up her arms for attention. "Okay people, back to the task at hand! We got lots more kickass presents for Little Squid and their parents."

"Their?!" Shaun repeated. "Rebecca, you can't use 'they' or 'their' as a singular-"

"I can and I did, fuckface," she said, sticking out her tongue. "Lot easier than saying 'his-or-her' every time!"

Desmond exchanged a brief glance with Alex, then cleared his throat. "Um, we're... kinda pretty sure he's a boy."

Their grammar argument forgotten, Shaun and Rebecca turned to them with quizzical looks. "You're 'kinda pretty sure'? What does that mean exactly?"

"You told me the ultrasound didn't show it!" Janet said, sounding betrayed.

"Well." Desmond shrugged. "Alex says he can feel it."

Dana squinted at her brother. "You can feel the boy-ness? Like, anatomically?"

"It's not a physical feeling," Alex clarified. "More of a sense."

"Can you sense anything else?" Dr. Ragland asked, intrigued.

Alex inhaled, put a hand right where the arrow on his shirt pointed, and was silent a few beats. "He weighs... a little over a pound and a half."

"Really? You can sense that?" Ragland's fingers twitched, like he wanted to grab a pen and start taking notes. "How extraordinary."

"He's lying sideways," Alex continued.

"Wow," Desmond breathed. "Who needs an ultrasound when you've got super senses like that?"

William frowned. "So. You knew the gender and didn't tell us?"

Desmond waved a hand in the air. "Sorry, I thought I'd mentioned it, but I guess not. Things've been busy, and honestly I didn't think you cared that much, really."

"Oh. He just flipped around." Alex stroked his belly and a beatific smile came over his face. "Real acrobatic, just like his parents."

A chorus of "Can I feel?" "Can I feel?" erupted from the three women in the room. Like a cornered cat, Alex tried to scoot away from them but was boxed in by the walls of the couch and finally had to give up with a gravelly "Fine," allowing his sister and the two semi-strangers to pet and palpate.

Desmond jumped in to provide a distraction just as it looked like Alex was ready to shove them all away. "Hey, I wanna see the rest of presents, guys." He got up and grabbed a small unassuming box from the table.

"Don't!" Shaun yelped.

"What?"

Shaun side-eyed the other people in the room and said through half-closed mouth, "That one's from me; you're meant to open it later."

Desmond lifted an eyebrow. "Like when later?"

"Just... when you're alone, yeah?" Shaun shot him a split-second wink.

Rebecca choked on a laugh. "Wow, Shaun, you dog!"

William looked very uncomfortable, and Dana only marginally less so.

Realizing the implication- that this gift was some sort of sex toy- Desmond dropped the box like a hot potato and stammered, "Uh, which ones are good to open right now, then?"

Shaun pointed out another, slightly larger box. "Try this one. Also from me."

"Woah, two gifts. Generous." Desmond peeled off the pastel-green wrapping and found inside a book titled _Does This Baby Make Me Look Straight?: Confessions of a Gay Dad_. "Ah. Is this like, an instruction guide?"

"Just humor and anecdotes, sorry, mate." Shaun smiled. "You might learn a few things, though."

Next, the gift from William and Janet was a big basket of assorted baby clothes. Desmond rifled through them and randomly lifted up a onesie that declared "I ❤ My Daddies." This prompted his mind to imagine a child's voice saying those words. "Ohh man." He laughed nervously and looked over to Alex. 

Alex echoed the nervous laugh. "Yeah. We're daddies."

"Have the daddies figured out a name yet?" Janet asked.

Desmond put the onesie back in the basket, folding it meticulously. "Well, uh- I been throwing 'Deon' around for a while, but Alex only gave it the seal of approval a few weeks back. And we put his idea 'Ellis' as the middle name." He fiddled with the ribbon on the basket's handle. "And, uh, in the same spirit of compromise: 'Mercer-Miles'."

"Deon Ellis Mercer-Miles," Alex repeated slowly, looking down at himself-but-not-just-himself.

"Good name," Dana said with a pat on his shoulder.

He stood from the couch and prodded the largest of the boxes. "What's this?"

Dana flicked his ear. "Open it and see for yourself, doofus."

So he sliced through the wrappings, and they fell away from the sides of the box, revealing a picture of a sleek black ovoid resting on curved wooden legs. "It's... a crib."

"I had a hunch." Desmond came over to inspect the package.

"We kept the receipt if it turns out he doesn't need it," Dana said.

"Of course he'll need it. I mean, he's either gonna sleep like a human or do Alex's hibernating thing." Desmond rubbed his side. "Some Assembly Required, huh? You couldn't have put it together for us?"

"We wanted it to be a surprise, and it was hard enough hiding the big ol' box," Dana said. "And once it's put together, it's even bigger."

"Well, at least it doesn't look too complicated." Desmond rubbed his side again.

"What's wrong, bud?" Rebecca asked him. "Oh wait, don't tell me. Another sprain from 'sparring' with your 'bae'?"

Desmond flushed pink. "I... It just hurts, all right!"

Janet laughed out loud. "Ohhh, mijito is getting sympathy pains!"

"Sympathy pains?!" Desmond clutched his head. "Is that a thing?"

Janet squeezed his shoulder. "That's a good sign for your relationship, it means you're really close."

Desmond smiled dubiously at her. "So we're such good boyfriends, I can psychically feel his muscle cramps? I'm not even sure he has muscles."

"Guess I don't," Alex said. "Not the same way humans do." He flexed the fingers of one hand, watching and analyzing the motion. "Just... motor proteins."

Shaun clapped. "Speaking of protein, I'm absolutely famished. Before opening the other presents, what say we break for sandwiches? I made them myself."

* * *

After sandwiches, there were yet more presents from Desmond's parents, though he had the sneaking suspicion they were really mostly from Janet. William seemed uneasy and stiff throughout the whole baby shower, staying on the sidelines, both spatially and conversationally. He also opted out of all games, but this only meant he was made to play the timekeeper and referee for the other partygoers as they raced to hang diapers on a line, suck juice out of bottles, and other such nonsense.

Anyway, in addition to the crib, Rebecca and Dana also got Deon a weird limbless stuffed toy. "What even is this thing?" Desmond asked, holding it up.

"It's a plushie virus!" Rebecca beamed.

"Okay, cool. Next question: Where the fuck did you get a plushie virus?"

"You know that one website that sells adorable biology-themed stuff?"

"Uhh. Nope, don't know it."

Alex checked the tag on [the fuzzy red-and-white oblong](http://www.giantmicrobes.com/us/products/rubella.html). "This is Rubella virus, though."

"Well they didn't have a Blacklight one," Dana said. "I even wrote an email to ask if maybe they just were out of stock, but no dice. So we just picked the cutest virus they had."

Dr. Ragland's gift was another book, though a more practical one: _The Expectant Father: The Ultimate Guide for Dads-to-Be_. "Not everything in there will be applicable to your situation, of course," he said as Alex thumbed through it, "but hopefully you'll be able to chew the meat and spit out the bones, so to speak."

"Alex can handle bones no problem," Desmond said with a laugh.

"Don't really need to chew either," Alex added. "Didn't you see how I handled the sandwiches?"

"Mm, yes. I did see."

William made a show of checking his watch. "Are we done here?"

Janet sighed and looked around at the scattered ribbons and wrapping paper. "Guess so." She smiled at the two fathers-to-be. "We'll help clean up our mess and then leave you two in peace."

* * *

"I gotta say, it's more than a little weird he got us something like this," Desmond said as he brought Shaun's secretive present into the bedroom.

"Something like what?"

Desmond sat down beside him in the bed. "Were you not paying attention earlier? It's gotta be a sex toy."

Alex furrowed his brows, took the box from Desmond, and started unwrapping it.

Meanwhile, Desmond started unwrapping his body. (Which is to say, taking off his clothes.) "I mean, not like I really need anything to spice up having sex with you."

Alex stared at the bold lettering he'd just uncovered. "Huh. 'Premium Latex Condoms with Spermicide for Extra Contraceptive Protection'."

"Wait, what?" Desmond grabbed the box to confirm what Alex had read. "Oh... goddamit, Shaun," he said through convulsing cackles. "See, it's 'cause I said you got preggo due to-"

"Yeah, I was there, I overheard it," Alex said. "Think we should tell him the truth?"

"Nothing is true, man." Desmond opened the box. "But hey, condoms are condoms, spermicidal or not, so we can still put this gift to good use."

And indeed they did.


	18. now I realize that I could never let you go

A cold snap in December had severely cut down the number of Infected roaming around, and the Assassins, like everyone else, rejoiced for this. But early January brought a slight increase in warmth and humidity, and the Infected resurged from hibernation, somehow even more numerous than before. So a couple days after the baby shower, Desmond and Alex were sent on a mission to hunt and destroy as many as they could.

Well, originally it was just an Alex mission, but Desmond put up a fuss at his sweet preggo bae (though he didn't use those words) going out on his own.

He cornered the Mentor as he was looking over their weapons inventory. "C'mon, Dad, he's fucking four months pregnant! Which may I remind you we don't exactly know how long it's gonna be in total?"

Before William could answer, Alex let loose a rough sigh. "He's not coming anytime soon, Des. Certainly not today."

Desmond turned from William. "Okay, okay, but still, I think you should maybe take it a little easy while he's in you."

"While he's in me, I need to consume more than usual," Alex reminded him flatly. "So this mission is perfect."

"Can we not just have someone else go kill a buncha zombies and bring 'em back for you?"

"Dead or alive, I will not have any of those **things** inside the den," William said, making a face.

Alex put a hand on Desmond's shoulder. "Listen to yourself. You're doing it. Treating me like weaksauce just because I'm pregnant."

The truth of these words chagrined Desmond, and he looked down.

"I scaled an eight-hundred-foot building not two weeks ago, even carrying you for the last three hundred because your hands got too cold to hold on."

"You were... slower than usual," Desmond mumbled. He could feel himself unexplainably blushing.

"He's still faster than any of us," William put in. "Faster and more durable."

 _Durable, but not immortal._ Desmond thought of Elizabeth Greene's gigantic Mother form- five stories tall, incredibly tough- taken down eventually by Alex and the military. He thought of the second Prototype- the one styled after the human James Heller, by some accounts even stronger than Alex- dead now as well. Those hacked Blackwatch files had included the front-page Times article from a couple years back: _"Heller's Hell Finally Over: Viral Fiend Lives No More"_. Desmond didn't think he could bear to read a gloating headline like that about Alex. Just the idea of it made his chest uncomfortably tight. With a little difficulty, he met Alex's eyes again. The soft blue contrasted with the hard line of his nose and the stiff slant of his lips. "It... it can't hurt for me to come along with you, can it?"

"You could die," Alex said casually, stepping back and letting go his shoulder.

"Any mission I could die," Desmond spat. "I'm an Assassin, and being an Assassin is fucking life-threatening sometimes." He grabbed Alex's hand and held it tight in both of his. "Meanwhile **you** are still technically a novice, and not an ex-Master novice like Altaïr. So I'm gonna come with, capisce?"

"But the mission is hunting Infected. I've been doing that way longer than you."

Desmond patted Alex's hand. "Bullets kill zombies just as well as anything you do." He went to the wall and picked out a rifle. "And there's enough of them out there right now that you'll still have plenty to eat even if you don't like the taste of gunpowder."

Alex considered this, and nodded. "All right. Come with," he said decisively, as if he was issuing a command, as if Desmond wasn't already set on accompanying him. "You can help, even. Calm down Little Shit if he starts getting antsy again." He brushed a lock of hair from his eyes. "Screws with my concentration when he's like that."

Desmond smiled. "Hey, being active means he's nice and healthy; haven't you learned that much from Ragland's book?" There was silence as he picked up various other supplies. "Did you read it at all, even?"

Alex grunted ambiguously and headed out.

 

* * *

 

Before long they found a mid-size apartment complex, or rather ex-apartment complex, that was now a pustulent hive of Infected. While Desmond was silently sussing out the spot and thinking over possible strategies, Alex disregarded such deliberation, morphed into military disguise, and called in an airstrike on the diseased building.

Desmond covered his ears. "Dammit, Alex!" he yelled against the barrage of missiles. "You could warn me next time!"

"This is SOP for dealing with a hive, Des," Alex said as the noise faded. "Did you not know?"

Desmond didn't completely hear this due to a lingering ring in his head. He twisted a pinky in his ear to stop it. "How you gonna eat 'em now, genius? They're all blown to bits."

Alex opted to answer by demonstrating. He glanced left and right to check for witnesses, then, satisfied there were none, strode out across the street and into the bloody rubble. His arms turned blacker and longer, sporting out to suck up the scattered mounds of meat.

Desmond covered his face, really **really** wishing he hadn't just witnessed that. _Right, "living or freshly dead", of course._

 

* * *

 

With their home hive destroyed, the Infected in that block were left weakened and apathetic. Desmond and Alex easily cleaned up the ones that remained after the airstrike.

Desmond reloaded his rifle and checked his ammo, finding he had a decent amount left. "Can you tell if there's any more hives nearby?"

Alex's eyes did something strange as he scanned the skyline- the change was so subtle Desmond couldn't pinpoint it- then flickered back to normal. "That'a'way." He pointed, and they headed off through the back alleys.

Desmond didn't try to keep up with Alex's speed, but just jogged fast enough to stay in sight of him. _And boy, what a sight._ He'd always been an ass man, and this guy had one hell of an ass.

Today the ass seemed to be moving in a slightly different fashion than usual, though. A tad clumsier, a fraction slower. Desmond watched for a bit before daring to comment. "Hey, uh, Alex?"

"What."

"Have you noticed you're... kind of... walking funny?"

Now Alex stopped and turned to frown at him. "Funny."

"Yeah. Like, side-to-side, kind of."

Alex's hands twitched. "Yes."

Desmond stepped closer, smiling back against the frown. "Guess Deon screws up your balance as well as your concentration, huh?"

"Is that fucking surprising to you?" Alex gripped his belly angrily, fingers tense. "He keeps growing, and I don't wanna risk shifting his biomass around to adjust my center of gravity. Might fuck him up somehow." He made a face. "And now he's kicking again. Grg."

"Well, 'cause you just gave him a whole bunch of calories, he's fulla energy." Desmond shrugged. "What'd you expect?"

"Grg." Alex gestured bossily for Desmond to come close. "Make him stop. He listens to you, for some reason."

Desmond obediently came over and started in on the rubbing. "All righty, li'l dude, we're on an important mission right now, so maybe, just until we're back at the den, you could stop kicking?"

"And stop **growing**. Getting to where I almost can't climb properly."

"Don't listen to him," Desmond said in an undertone, crouching down. "Do however much growing you need to, and if that means Dad's gotta stick to ground level, then Dad's gotta stick to ground level."

"Don't think just because you're whispering I can't hear you."

Desmond glanced up. "Look, I know you don't like having your mobility reduced, but you want this baby, right? You haven't changed your mind about him, have you?"

Alex exhaled. "We're kind of committed at this point, what with the name and all those gifts from the shower."

"Okay, so listen." Desmond stood back up and touched Alex's shoulder. "You're growing a whole 'nother person in you. It's serious business. You can't just go around like normal and act like it doesn't affect your body. That'd be a disaster waiting to happen."

Alex sniffed the air, then looked up to the roof of a building nearby.

A soft rustle alerted Desmond to the tentacles starting to coil around the virus-man's legs. "Oh no you don't!" he said, grabbing him in a sudden bodyhold.

Alex sprang into the air anyway, only slightly encumbered by the extra hundred-and-eighty pounds. They flew straight up onto the top of an apartment block, then he shook Desmond off and began flowing biomass down his arms.

"Hey!" Desmond yelped. "You mind telling me what you're doing?"

"Taking out an infected water tower." Alex flung his arm towards it. But the long black stream tipped by wicked claws didn't make it more than halfway there before he grimaced and retracted it back. "Damn. Whipfist range severely limited."

"There's a reason for that, you big stupid biomasshole! Because your body's resources are concentrated on growing a baby, not doing all this other shit!" Desmond shouted.

"I got this, don't worry," Alex said flatly, then made to grab an AC unit.

Desmond jumped between him and the AC. "Hey, stop! What have I said before about not ripping up buildings?"

Alex glared. "There's a Hunter incubating in there," he said, jerking a thumb at the water tower highlighted with acrid orange rust. "Hunters are bad. We need to destroy it."

"Then let me take care of it, okay?!" Without waiting for a reply, Desmond pulled out a couple of hand grenades and chucked them through the air. They bounced once and rolled under the tower.

As the tower exploded into pieces, Alex rounded on Desmond, teeth bared and fists hammerized. "Why couldn't you let me-"

"Shut up, man, you know why! It's like I was just telling you!"

"I'm not a delicate little damsel!"

"I never said you were! Look, maybe you're right and the pregnancy isn't weakening you that much, but maybe you might push yourself too hard without knowing it, so why not play it a little on the safe side?!" Desmond shoved his index finger at the bulging belly. "That's my kid too, y'know, and I don't want him getting hurt just 'cause his dad's got a hero complex!"

Alex scrunched his face in a pout. "Let **me** worry about Little Shit."

"You don't seem to be worrying **at all** , man, so I gotta worry for both of us!"

"Just leave me alone!" Alex slammed a fist on the AC unit, crumpling it into a twisted mess.

Desmond threw his arms in the air. "Oh great, you fucked up their AC anyway. Goddammit, Alex, it's really hard to love you sometimes!"

"Never asked you to love me," Alex mutter-snarled.

"It's kind of involuntary!" Desmond yelled. "You and your hot body and amazing hair and sexy voice and weird badass-neurotic personality!"

"Erotic personality" echoed back from the plate glass windows across the street a split second later. Alex let out a monotone "Uhh."

"And- and the way you laugh. The way you smile. The way your tentacles can hug me or fuck me or rub my back when I get sympathy pains, which doesn't even make sense because you don't even have pains in the first place!" Desmond wiped slight wetness from the corner of his eyes. "Fucking everything about you, man... **Everything**. I can't help it." He suddenly dashed forward between Alex's raised hammerfists and embraced him. "I can't help it. I love you, you big virusy freak."

_"I love you."_

Alex had heard Desmond say this before, yes, back on the same day he first felt their child move inside him.... But it had seemed a slip of Desmond's tongue, something that fell from his mouth without thought amidst the tumble of many other words. He'd even followed it up later with the more careful "I like you. A lot."

But something was different now. Alex sensed it in the very feel of Desmond's body, the way he gripped so solidly, the way his heart thudded out-of-sync from its normal rhythm. Even when hugging closely to Alex's back as they scaled a building to flee danger, Desmond had never seemed so scared.

These and more thoughts ran through Alex's mental maze in the blink of an eye. He didn't know what to say. "You... love me."

Desmond buried his face in Alex's shoulder. "Yeah. I do." He chuckled at the unintended matrimonial allusion. "I'm not sure when it started, but I can't seem to stop it. I love me some Alex Mercer."

Alex shifted his hands back to normal and patted Desmond's back. Everything was so suddenly uncertain.

_love- passion- all emotion- it is weakness- it is senseless- it is human- it is life- we should learn- but how- know already- how- what- what- how- this want- this drive- keepsafeprotectjoinenjoyfeelsomuchforevermorealways- is love?- perhaps-_

"It's strange, but... I think I love you too... bae."

Desmond sniggered against Alex's neck. "Oh man. 'Bae.' God, that word is so dumb."

"You're the one that-"

"I know, I know." Desmond pulled back a little bit and shot him a smile. "But now it sounds so, I dunno... adolescent."

"What do you propose instead?"

"Propose," Desmond repeated, slowly and thoughtfully. "Hmm. You wanna get married?"

"Is this a joke, Des," Alex said, voice so numb it didn't even sound like a question.

"No." Desmond surprised himself with the bluntness of his reply. "No joke, Alex. Let's get married."

"Is that even possible? For us?"

 _"...need to both go in person to the clerk's office and give them all your details to be granted a marriage license..."_ The memory of William's words rushed back to Desmond like a knife between his shoulderblades. "Shit." He slumped down, deflated by the reality of their situation. They were both Assassins, living in the shadows of society. One a virus in the shape and name of a man dead for years, and the other unlisted on any official government records, having been born into that hidden life, though he'd tried to escape it. "No, it's not possible," the words dripped morosely from Desmond's lips. "Forget I mentioned it." A chill gripped his heart as he sank to the gritty asphalt.

A frigid wind struck from behind Alex, but he stood firm, defying the blast. He gazed down at Desmond's crumpled form.

_proposal- useless- why ask- emotion- passion- it is weakness- it is human- most basic- it is Desmond- he knows us- he sees- unnatural- darkness- but still- truth- no fear- life- friend- learn- teach- helps- desires- sires- inadvertent- but still- stays- comforts- loves- we must keep safe- join- companion- protect- yes, but- would he- really- truly- consecrated bond- forever?_

Alex shook aside the restless whispers of collective consciousness. "Let's find out."

"Huh?" Desmond raised his head.

Alex knelt down to his level and took his head gently in his hands. "I would, Desmond."

Desmond was silent a few beats, then repeated his "Huh?"

Alex closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "If it was possible. Yes. I would."

Desmond's blank look faded into one of happiness, guarded by disbelief. "You... you'd marry me?"

"Yes. But would you, me?" As he spoke, Alex stood back up and metamorphosed into full armor. "You can't seriously want to be tied forever to a virus, a fucking **germ** , when you could have another human."

"But I do, yeah, no, Alex, virus doesn't matter," Desmond blurted, the words coming out before his brain could arrange them in the proper order. "You're- I love you, whatever, virus, human, person, I don't care."

Alex's armorized face masked whatever reaction might have otherwise shown. "Really. This." He spread his arms wide and displayed an array of fierce blades. "You love **this**. A bioweapon that by some twist of fate developed consciousness."

Desmond took a breath to steady himself before answering. "It doesn't matter what you look like, Alex- though I will admit I like your other form, the blue-eyed brunette with the amazing ass, a lot better- but yeah, I don't give a fuck if you're a virus or a bacteria or an alien from Mars. It's your personality... your soul, if you wanna call it that. That's what I'm in love with." He got to his feet and carefully hugged Alex, rough edges and all. "Maybe I'm insane, but yeah, I'd marry you."

Alex felt a jiggle from the unborn child. "Not just because of the Little Shit?"

"Oh right, you're pregnant, I forgot!" Desmond teased, winking impishly. "Hey, on any of that stuff about you I just listed, did you hear me say anything about babies?"

"...No."

"Then there's your answer: no."

The armor slid slowly away from Alex's face. "Don't think that confessing your love will make me happily sedate. Pregnant or not, I'm going to keep protecting this city."

Desmond took another breath, nodding at the determined look in Alex's eyes. "Right. You're right. I'm being kinda overprotective of you and Deon. Sorry. It's just... I love you so much. I don't ever want to lose you."

Alex smiled and stroked his cheek. "I don't want to lose you either... love."

 

* * *

 

"You sure look happy today," Janet said, spotting Desmond heading with a spring in his step toward the armory to put away the rifle.

"It's Alex, Mom," Desmond said through his perma-grin. "He said... he said he'd marry me if we could."

One side of Janet's face quirked. "What do you mean, 'if'?"

"Well, obviously we can't. Because, y'know, Assassins." Desmond made a small "oh well, them's the breaks" shrug.

"Assassins can't get married?"

"Duh, you need a license from the gov-"

Janet held up an interrupting hand. "Hold on a moment there, mister. Your father and I are lifelong Assassins and we're married."

Desmond blinked. "What."

She pointed to her ring.

"So he gave you a ring. That's-"

"We had a ceremony, Desmond," she said, a slight edge to her voice. "Not a government-sanctioned one, but really, if we sought government sanctioning on everything in our lives, we wouldn't be Assassins, would we?"

The rifle fell from his hands to the floor. "You... but Dad-"

"Dad **what**?"

"Dad told me we couldn't," Desmond said blankly.

"Did he now?" Janet crossed her arms. "Mira, just like the captain of a ship can perform marriages, the leader of an Assassin den can as well."

"That's a myth."

"What?"

Desmond waved a hand vaguely. "The captain-ship-marrying thing. I had a regular at Bad Weather, big-time Navy guy. We talked a lot."

Janet smiled. "Well, this here is no myth. Assassins can and do get married."

Desmond's mind boggled. "I... I gotta go see Dad."

"Pick up your gun first, mijito."

 

* * *

 

"Daaaad!"

William spun his chair around to face Desmond, who had just burst into his office. "What?"

"You fucking **lied**." Desmond jabbed an indignant finger into William's chest.

"Excuse me?"

"Remember a few months back? You said me an' Alex couldn't get married. You implied that **no** Assassins could get married. Well, Mom says different."

William's mouth twitched. "What brought on this sudden interest in matrimony?"

"This morning..." Desmond's heart fluttered and he took a soft breath. "Me an' Alex," he noticed his father's mouth twitch again, "were out doin' that zombie mission, right?"

"Riiight...."

"And... some things happened, and we got to talking, and I, um, he... well, no... we **both** kinda... proposed to each other."

Behind William, his computer blipped, but he ignored that. "You've only known him some five months," he pointed out brusquely.

Desmond crossed his arms. "Yeah, well... how long would you require before granting your seal of approval, oh great and wise Mentor?"

William didn't know what to say to this.

"I mean, we're already living together, not to mention having a fucking baby together."

"And I'd prefer neither of those to be true," William said quietly through clenched jaw.

"Well it's not about what you prefer, is it?!" Desmond snapped back. "It's about **us**. We. Wanna. Get. Married. Maybe you think that'd be a mistake, but I think we should be free to make that mistake! This whole fucking Brotherhood is about freedom, if I recall correctly!"

"Hm. Well said. But freedom is no excuse for recklessness."

Wounded by this remark, Desmond gripped his chest. "Ugh. I'm not an ignorant fucking teenager anymore, Dad, I'm a grown-ass man. And a Master Assassin. When you gave me that rank, I thought it meant you trusted my judgement and shit. Believe me, I'm not taking this marriage thing lightly."

"You're quite sure?" William's eyes searched over Desmond's face, hunting for any sign of doubt. "You aren't just feeling obligated on account of the child?"

"The child doesn't matter. Wait," Desmond shook his head. "That came out wrong. I mean, like, that's not why I'm wanna do this, Dad. I need to prove to Alex how I feel."

But William grossly misinterpreted this. "Mercer's forcing you into it?"

"Fuck, Dad, of course not! He's not forcing me **anything**. He just... He doesn't quite believe our relationship is real."

"It can be real without marriage, Desmond. Marriage is meant to be a permanent bond." William's eyes were still searching, but coming up empty. "Till death do you part. Are you ready to make that sort of commitment?"

"I wouldn't've asked if I wasn't ready. I mean, I've- I've had boyfriends before, that I liked. Lots. But this time..." Desmond swallowed, searched for the right words. "It's different. When I'm with Alex, it's... it's, like, **more**. It goes deeper than anything I've felt for anyone else. It's love, Dad." His voice cracked. "I really love him. I... I've thought about it, and... I really can't imagine being with anyone else."

William was blown away by the fumbling force of the mini-speech. This was so far and away from the Desmond who'd balked at sharing a suite with Mercer, the Desmond who'd called Mercer "shitface" on the day of his coming out. "You want to spend your life with him? Not just co-parent the child?"

"I'll do that too, but yeah." Desmond nodded.

"Well... if you're really sure-"

"I really am."

William set his shoulders. "Then... we shall make it official."

Desmond's face shone with delight. "Awesome. So, uh, how does this Assassin marriage thing work? Do we do a Leap of Faith together into a pile of rose petals?"

William almost laughed at that. "It's mostly just an ordinary garden-variety wedding."

"Oh." Desmond's grin faltered. "With like, a priest and Bible readings and all that jazz? I dunno, I'm uh, not really into the whole religion thing since I fought the evil Pope and learned the real story about Adam and Eve and shit, but I guess if I really love Alex, I could put up with-"

"That's all right, Desmond," William cut in. "Many Assassins are atheist, agnostic or the like." He put a hand on his chest. "Janet and I opted for a secular ceremony, officiated by the... ah."

Desmond noticed the look of unease, and remembered what his mother had said. "Oh. The leader of the den, right?"

"...Correct." William's hand fell back to his side. "Which, in this case, would be myself." His voice was suddenly very small.

Desmond smiled again. "Big responsibility, huh?"

"I... Did you... want to do this... soon?" William stammered.

"Well, before the kid gets here would probably be best, so yeah, soon," Desmond said, then winced. "Once we get the rings and stuff. Shit, that'll be a conundrum. Can't exactly go out to a jeweler's, can we? And forget taking out a loan!" He laughed weakly.

"Don't you worry about that. We have a few connections for these sort of things." William was all business, and turned to his computer again, but instead of resuming reading his incoming messages he clicked "Compose New" and started typing. "The same skills that can craft a strong light blade can craft other metalwork as well. Just as long as you don't insist on a huge flashy gem."


	19. Nice Day for a Blacklight Wedding

A heavy knock came upon the door of Dana's suite. She opened it and saw her brother, a look of somber surprise on his face. "Desmond wants to **marry** me, Dana," he said without preamble.

"Woah."

"Yes. Woah." Alex slid past her and sat down splay-legged on a chair. "Very woah."

Dana sat down across the table from him, pushing aside the stack of paper she'd been leafing through. Work could wait; right now, Alex deserved her undivided attention. "Do you think you're ready for that?"

"I don't know," he answered after a long while.

Dana gave him an understanding nod. "That's alright. Take some time and think it over before you give 'im an answer."

"I said yes."

"You..."

"Said yes."

"Oh Alex." Dana rested the side of her head on one hand. "That poor sweet guy. You better not break his heart."

"I would never," he answered back instantly.

"But if you're not feeling this relationship-"

"I feel it all right," Alex cut in. "He... makes me feel... more things than I ever thought I could." His voice sounded almost pained.

"But are you in love with him?"

Alex shifted in the chair, making it creak. "Love is... something... I'm not sure." He shuffled through memories of literature in his mind, finding scattered reference to things like _attachment theory_ or _dopamine pathways_ , but none of it seemed profound enough to match what was going on in his life right now. "I feel so confused."

Dana took a deep breath and then let it out. She was about to ask another question when Alex spoke up again.

"It's close to my feelings about you. But different."

"Well, you're my brother, not my boyfriend." Dana rolled her pencil back and forth on the table as she talked. "Sibling love isn't the same as boyfriend love... Or husband love."

Alex made a small "Mrm," after which more silence passed between them.

"Do you wanna talk about something else?" Dana asked, thinking maybe Alex needed more time to process the idea of getting married. "How's Little Shit doing today?"

"There's nothing to talk about. He's growing and moving, same as always." Alex absently brushed a hand over his belly to calm the wiggling within. "Probably better for him if his parents are married."

"Marriage isn't a magic pill that makes things all fairytale sparkly perfect," Dana said, trying not to sound too bitter. " **Our** parents were married and then there was the nasty divorce."

"Yes. I remember." Some specific memories of that time tried to resurface, but Alex shoved them back down. "So, it's better if we don't get married?"

"Not necessarily. Every couple is different."

"This isn't real helpful," Alex growled.

Dana wrung her hands. "Look, I don't know the inside workings of your relationship. But maybe marriage really **would** work out for you. Desmond is a really sweet guy. He's thoughtful, and funny, and cute. I'd- uh." She pulled back whatever she was originally going to say and replaced it with, "But that's my opinion. You know him a lot better than me. What do you think? What are your feelings about him?"

Alex vanished his jacket and looked at her, baring his soul through slow, deliberately chosen words. "I feel... connected to him."

"Well, you are having his baby," Dana said with a quick little half-smile.

Alex curled an arm around his belly, as if that would shield it from view. "It's not just Little Shit connecting us. It's... hell, Dana, I don't know. He's got those eyes, and they see right through me, and they don't see a virus or a monster; they just see... a person. A person with 'amazing hair' and a 'hot body' and things like that."

Dana didn't want to dwell on the thought of Alex's body being considered "hot". "And when you look at him? What do you see?"

Alex stared at the table, analyzing the whorls in the wood. "A stubborn singularity."

"Meaning?"

One whorl in particular reminded Alex of the hair at the back of Desmond's head. He traced a finger over it. "No matter what, he's always there. He's not scared off by anything I do, or anything I am. We argue, and we yell, but after it's all said and done, he hugs me and I... I feel..." _Understood. Protected. Secure. Insulated._ "...at peace."

Dana rolled her pencil back and forth, waiting to see if Alex had anything further to say.

He looked up from the table. "Is that love?"

"Sure sounds like it to me." She picked the pencil up and wagged it at him. "But you're the one that has to decide."

"I think... I like being at peace. Especially with Desmond." Alex pulled in a puff of air, tracking the gases as they diffused throughout his body. "Thank you, Dana."

 

* * *

The atmosphere in the room didn't feel like a wedding, not that Desmond had any point of reference to compare it to. But he thought it didn't seem serious enough; it just felt casual, like a big cocktail party. He was only reminded of the occasion by the feel of stiff woolen fabric against his skin. This was the first time he'd ever worn a tuxedo, as well as the first time he'd actually attended a wedding.

The tables of the cafeteria had been folded up and pushed to the side, and the walls had been done up with red streamers. The walls weren't really visible past the masses of people, though. It seemed every Assassin from New York and the surrounding states had come to this little shindig. Desmond didn't even know most of them, but he tried to make polite conversation anyway. _Really wish Alex would hurry up and arrive. How the hell is he taking so long to get ready? He doesn't have to put on an actual suit, he just has to turn his skin into a suit._ When Clay showed up, Desmond excused himself from a group of strangers and headed over to meet him.

"Eyy, if it isn't my favorite ex!" the blonde called out.

Desmond winced. He didn't exactly want the whole world knowing they had a history with each other. "Nice to see you too," he responded, as normally as possible.

"So, congrats are in order. Or double congrats, I should say." Clay swirled a martini in one hand. "Jesus, Des, you are one exceptional individual. Managed to find and fuck the one dude that can force a shotgun gay wedding."

This conversation wasn't completely non-awkward, but Desmond preferred it to talking with relatives he didn't even know he had before today. "It's not a shotgun wedding if we actually **wanna** get married, right?"

"True, true." Clay sipped his martini. "So, how long have you been out?"

"Since this pregnancy thing," Desmond said. "It kinda forced my hand."

Clay clucked his tongue. "Chicken. It's the modern, sexually-liberated age, Desmond, or did you forget? Did your brain get stuck back in time, thinking of dear Leo's sodomy trial or some such nonsense?"

"Hey, modern times or not, I seem to recall your parents kicked you out for being bi!" Desmond teased back.

"Yeah, but your parents are cool."

"Says you."

Clay pointed behind Desmond, almost spilling his drink. "Holy frijoles, there he is! I think." He took a long sip. "Sure doesn't look like any of the pics I've seen, but unless there's another pregnant dude on the loose, that's gotta be him."

Desmond turned and was amazed by the sight of Alex. Sure enough, he was hardly recognizable as the hooded humanoid who'd been menacing Manhattan. He'd formed his pseudo-clothes into an exquisite black-and-white suit, the front of which was absurdly deformed by his belly. And his hair was... combed. Not combed very well, but combed nevertheless.

Clay approached him warmly. "My god, Alex Mercer, you sure clean up nice."

Alex grunted in reply.

Undeterred by this, Clay forged ahead with the dialogue. "So, Desmond's finally taking responsibility, and just in time too, by the looks of things!" He gave Alex's belly a poke.

"Don't touch me."

"Woah, okay there," Clay said with a smile, pulling his hand back. "So, what is this, like eight and a half months?"

"Who are you?" Alex asked in a restrained rumble.

"Oh, shit, sorry!" Clay gave a hearty laugh and held out the hand that wasn't holding his drink. "Clay Kaczmarek. Friend of Desmond's. I'm based out of the DC den."

"Huh." Alex shook hands briefly but gave no further comment. He looked over Clay's shoulder at Desmond.

Desmond shot him a little smile to ease his tension, then answered Clay's previous question. "No, it's like five months."

"Almost twenty-two weeks," Alex added for precision.

Clay's eyes flitted briefly to Alex's belly then hastily back up. "You're shitting me."

"Fuckin' virus baby, man," Desmond said, throwing an arm around Alex's shoulders. "Grows bigger faster."

"Well, I suppose that's just as plausible as him being pregnant in the first place." Clay drained the last of his martini. "So, when's the big day?"

"We don't know when he'll be born," Alex said, still sounding tense. A tiny tendril flicked out from his shoulder and smoothed a stray lock of hair back into place. "Today is a big day, with the marriage. But he's not being born today."

"Yeah, Dr. Ragland did a check the other day, and he agrees with Alex that we probably got a little while left to go," Desmond said. "But we wanted to get this outta the way beforehand."

"Make sure he's born in wedlock, eh?"

Desmond snorted. "As if we give a crap about that. We just thought it'd be cool to have it Valentines Day so neither of us forgets the anniversary."

"So Desmond doesn't forget it, rather," put in Alex.

Desmond ignored this. "Plus it's hella easier to have a wedding, or any sorta party thing, when you don't have to juggle an already-born baby, right?"

"Right indeed," Clay said. "Speaking of birthdays, isn't yours coming up next month?"

"Twenty-seven, yeah. You sticking around for that?"

Clay shrugged. "Perhaps, if I'm not needed in the capitol. I do enjoy a change of scenery once in a while."

"Don't mind the occasional cluster of Infected?" Alex asked with the slightest of smiles.

Clay opened his mouth to reply but a clear sound, the dinging of a fork against a fluted glass, rang out at just that moment. "Your attention please." Everyone turned from their conversations to look at William, who was stood behind a lectern at the head of the rectangular room.

"Woah," Desmond said under his breath. His father was wearing an elegant silken cloak, white with dark blue trim around the edges and inside the hood. It seemed like some sort of mix between a collegiate graduation gown and the Master Assassin robes of centuries past.

Clay scooted closer and whispered in Desmond's ear. "Have you never seen Bill in his formal Mentor getup before?"

"Sure haven't," he whispered back. "I didn't think any Assassins wore that sorta stuff these days."

"Well it's only for show, of course; he'd never try to run a mission in that." Clay took a sip of a new drink he'd already gotten somehow.

Desmond shot a quick frown at the drink, a Tom Collins in a tall thin glass. "Don't get too wasted, okay?"

Clay smiled thinly. "I'll be good, Des, promise." He lifted his arm and pointed with the glass towards William, staring pointedly at their little group. "Now, how about the two of you get up there so the formalities can begin?"

"Shit, you're right!" He scrambled- as fast as he could while still looking dignified- to the front of the room, where Alex was already waiting with an uneasy expression.

"Quiet please," William was saying to calm the last flittering bits of dialogue in the room. "Everyone quiet." When at last the crowd was silent enough, he began to haltingly speak. Judging by the darting of his eyes, he was reading from notes on the lectern before him. "We are, ah... We are gathered together today to witness the union of..." He took a brief pause for breath, and stuttered a little on the names. "Of... of Ah- Alex M- Mercer, and Desm-mond Miles."

"Relax, Bill, you're not the one getting hitched!" Shaun called, eliciting a wave of giggles from all around.

William cleared his throat and waited, drumming his fingers on the lectern, until the laughter had subsided. "Right. Well... Marriage. Marriage is a tremendous step in anyone's life, and for Assassins there is no exception." He met Desmond's eyes briefly, then looked into the crowd. "The solidarity of our Brotherhood provides strength to its members, of course. But for some, they would prefer to have the additional support of a specific person as they traverse this dangerous world we live in. Yes..." His gaze drifted to his wife, who was dabbing slight tears from her smiling face. "Yes," he said again, and Desmond noticed he sounded a bit less anxious now. "For what is a marriage, but a brotherhood of two? Good spouses are like Mentors to each other, providing knowledge, encouragement, solace... love."

Alex's hand drifted to his right and loosely squeezed Desmond's fingers.

"Love," William repeated, his tone wavering. He stared down at the notes before him. "Love takes many forms. Brotherly love. Parental love. And of course, romantic love: the reason for this occasion." He glanced up at Desmond and Alex, down at their joined hands. "Some people say that the ability to love is what makes us human." He looked up at the crowd, gray eyes piercing yet warm, and gestured to Alex. "Well, if that's the case, then Mr. Mercer here is as human as anyone else!" he finished in a defiant crescendo.

There was a smattering of applause, and murmurs of "Beautiful." and similar sentiments. Alex shifted back and forth on his feet, his fingers squeezing tighter around Desmond's.

"They love each other. No matter their differences. And for the purpose of declaring that love today, they have each written some vows. So..." William looked from Desmond to Alex and back.

"I'll go first, if that's cool with you, Alex?" Desmond asked.

Alex gave a slight nod.

Desmond removed a ring from his jacket pocket. It was a simple band, gemless and unextravagant, but rich in symbolism. He'd put a lot of thought into the design: tungsten carbide, striped through with brilliant stainless steel. It was made of tougher stuff than your typical gold or silver, so as to withstand Alex's action-packed life. And- more importantly, at least in Desmond's view- the intermixed dark and light metals represented their bond quite nicely. Yes, they were two very different people. In some ways, polar opposites. But they'd come together, and they'd made it work.

He took a small breath to steel himself. _This is it._ "Alex Mercer. I've been through a lot of crazy shit in my life," at this a few people tittered with laughter, but he continued without stopping, "and so have you. And we'll most likely encounter more crazy shit in the future. But what doesn't seem crazy anymore is being in love with you."

Alex's fingers twitched at his side as he took in the heartfelt words.

Desmond swept a hand sideways through the air. "No matter what life throws at us from this point forward: safety or danger; peace or chaos; gladness or sorrow; Bloodtox or Bleeding Effect; ancient conspiracy or newborn baby..." He stopped a moment to wipe his eye. "Come what may, Alex, I want to be by your side, so we can face it all together." He took hold of Alex's left hand, hovered the ring near his fingertip. "Alex Mercer, I promise you my unconditional love and I give you my unwavering trust. Will you be part of my life forever?"

"Yes. I will," Alex replied, and there came a collective "aw" from the crowd as Desmond slipped the ring on.

Alex stole a quick look down at it: a two-toned metal band sandwiching silvery white between titanium black. _Light within dark. Goodness within evil. Humanity within monstrosity. Hope within despair._ He smirked at the hamfisted symbolism.

"D'you like it?" Desmond asked, barely-audible.

"It's very fitting," Alex answered just as quietly, then reached out and grasped Desmond's hand. "My vows aren't as fancy."

"Don't worry," Desmond whispered back, staring into his eyes. "I'm sure whatever you've got is amazing."

"If you say so." Alex smiled, then raised his voice to reach the whole room. "Desmond Miles. You are my friend. My companion. My lover. The father of my child. Today, I, Alex Zeus Mercer," there was a palpable air of surprise in the room at his chosen middle name, "want you as my husband." His voice cracked the tiniest bit on the h-word, and he slipped the ring on Desmond's finger.

Desmond's eyes were magnetized to Alex's as the cool metal and the warm fingers lingered. "Yes," he answered the unspoken question, putting his entire body and soul into the syllable.

William waited through another round of "aw"s, then said, "In the name of the Brotherhood, these two are hereby joined in marriage."

Desmond felt a sudden tightness in his chest, like the spring of a watch mechanism coiled around his lungs. There was no sound in the room save for the slight echo of William's final word. _Holy crap. I'm married. To Alex. We're husbands._

"Now kiss!" Rebecca yelled, breaking the tense silence.

Alex leaned forward and took Desmond's frozen face in both his hands. He registered the bewilderment in those wide brown eyes and chuckled quietly. "Don't run away screaming now," he whispered.

Desmond swallowed and nervously rubbed his thumb on the freshly-placed ring. It wasn't a traditional plain band, he realized, but a sort of spiraling weave, like tiny metal Blacklight tendrils around his finger. "Heh. Nice ring pick."

"Shut up and kiss already!" Rebecca squealed.

"We better do it," Alex murmured.

Desmond laughed and wrapped his arms around Alex's neck. "Well the other option is to just stand here forever." They pulled each other close and sealed the marriage with a short but fiery smooch.

A hearty round of applause and cheers swelled up from the crowd.

Right before he released Alex's lips, Desmond felt their unborn child squirming vigorously between them. "Oh, he's sure rambunctious today."

"Almost like he knows something big's going on," Alex replied, and then he chuckled, made that incredible small soft deep sound that never failed to electrify Desmond's soul.

William patted Desmond's shoulder and looked into his eyes. "Best wishes to both of you," he said warmly.

"Thanks." Desmond smiled back at him. "Thanks a lot, Dad."

William's smile grew. He put his other hand on Alex's shoulder, took a deep breath, and called out, "All right, everyone. It is now my pleasure to present the happy newlyweds. May their life together be everything they hoped for and more."

Desmond and Alex turned to face the crowd. Everyone rose to their feet and began another wave of applause. Rebecca put her fingers in her mouth and whistled long and loud, then pulled a remote control from her pocket, raised it in the air, and pressed a button.

"She's starting the music," Desmond said to Alex.

"Fuck yeah I'm starting the music! Get your asses out on the dance floor!" Rebecca pressed something else and the vibracious guitar strums became louder.

Alex grinned and pulled Desmond forward, pushing through the throng of people to find an open spot. Desmond didn't even have time to think, only to react, twisting and wiggling his body to match Alex's enthusiasm for the psychedelic retro-rock.

_It's getting near dawn..._

_...When lights close their tired eyes_

_I'll soon be with you my love..._

_...To give you my dawn surprise_

If his dance partner had been anyone else, Desmond would have been surprised at their fluidity of motion while so heavily pregnant. But he was Alex motherfucking Mercer, and nothing slowed him down.

_I'll be with you darling soon..._

_...I'll be with you when the stars start falling_

Alex's combed hair was already well past back to its usual chaos. Desmond liked it better that way, actually. He flipped his hand up to muss it further, and Alex grinned madly.

_I've been waiting so long_

_To be where I'm going_

_In the sunshine of your lo-o-o-o-ove_

A few people started clapping to the infectious beat, adding to the energy level in the room. Desmond couldn't explain how, but this song really seemed to fit their relationship, and he wondered if Alex had picked it out. (Earlier that month, Rebecca had asked for input on what music they wanted, but Desmond, not being a fan of lovey-dovey romance tunes, had just slung her a pile of his favorite CDs and said, "You can kinda get a feel for what I like from these. Use your best judgement, but just one rule: absolutely no fucking 'here comes the bride' or any of that traditional wedding march shit. Not even as a joke.")

 _I'll stay with you darling now!_ the singer promised in a vibrant roar. _I'll stay with you till my seeds are all dried up!_

"Who is this by?!" Desmond asked, though he could barely hear himself.

Alex heard him just fine. "Cream."

"Who?!"

"No, Cream."

Desmond still didn't catch that, but he blew it off. There would be time enough for questions later.

_I've been waiting so long_

_To be where I'm going_

_In the sunshine of your lo-o-o-o-ove_

The song exhausted its lyrics after repeating the second verse and returned to eccentric percussion and electric axe riffs. It was a rhythm that defied explanation and refused to be pinned down. _Just like Alex._

 

* * *

"Sunshine Of Your Love" went on for a good seven minutes at least, the last bit of which was a veritable tumult of drum and guitar beats going faster and faster and faster still. It put Desmond in mind of some of the more chaotic music nights at Bad Weather; the ones where his head would pound by the end of his too-long shift.

Right now it was his heart pounding; pounding with sheer happiness. Alex seemed to be enjoying himself too, judging from the mile-wide grin he beamed around the room as the music slowly abated.

Dana caught his eye and shot him a thumbs-up.

Rebecca hit pause on her playlist before the next track could start. "How 'bout a slow dance now, guys?" 

"Nothing too sappy, right?" Desmond called.

"Maybe a little. But c'mon, it's Elton John! I couldn't make a gay wedding playlist without Elton John!" She didn't wait for a reply before clicking to start the intended song.

Desmond's heartbeat, frantic from the up-tempo pace of their previous exertion, began to calm as soft piano keystrokes filled the air.

Alex looked right into his eyes for the first time since their kiss. His expression was guardedly optimistic.

Desmond smiled and wrapped one arm around the small of his back. "I don't really know how to slow dance," he admitted. "You?"

"I've picked up a bit, here and there." Alex took hold of Desmond's free hand and gently guided him through the steps. 

_There's a calm surrender_

_To the rush of day_

_When the heat of the rolling world_

_Can be turned away_

_An enchanted moment_

_And it sees me through_

_It's enough for this restless warrior_

_Just to be with you_

Alex's eyes clenched shut and he buried his face in Desmond's tuxedo.

Desmond nearly tripped over his own feet with concern. "You okay?"

_And caaaaan you feeeeel the loooove toniiight?_

Alex mumbled a reply, inaudible under the title lyric's swell of volume.

"Aw, fuck." Desmond halted his steps. "Is it Deon? Is he coming **now** of all times?"

Alex rumbled a deep low laugh into Desmond's shoulder before looking back up at him with a crooked smile. "No. Emotions."

Desmond smiled back automatically. The background vocals marvelled " _Oooh_ " and Elton chimed in with the next line, but Desmond wasn't even paying attention to the lyrics anymore, because Alex looked so beautiful, so absolutely, awesomely **incredible**. The music rolled right over them as they resumed their slow spin on the dance floor.

_It's enough_

_To make kings and vagabonds_

_Believe the very best_

On a whim, Desmond pressed forward and dipped Alex slightly back. Alex's smile faltered. He gripped Desmond's hand harder and tried to glare, but couldn't quite manage it.

"You don't like being dipped?"

"I... It just..."

"Surprised you, huh?"

Alex blushed faintly and pushed back upright. "Just warn me next time, you cock," he growled in Desmond's ear, but the tone was affectionate, not angry.

The chiming of brass sprang up all around them. Someone, or multiple someones, had done a heckuva job with the acoustic setup, for it sounded almost like they had a live orchestra there in the room.

_There's a time for everyone_

_If they only learn_

_That the twisting kaleidoscope_

_Moves us all in turn_

At the front of the watching crowd, Janet was shaking with dry sobs and holding William in a tight side-hug. He sighed and rubbed her shoulder. "Oh Jan... Can you believe this?"

Janet sniffled. "Our special little guy. Our sweet mijito."

"With Mercer."

"And a mijito of his own soon to come."

"Mercer," William repeated, dumbstruck by the way Alex was gazing into Desmond's eyes, the way their bodies were pressed so close together despite the obvious bump making it difficult.

_There's a rhyme and reason_

_To the wild outdoors_

_When the heart of this star-crossed voyager_

_Beats in time with yoooooooours...._

"I love you," Desmond laughed into Alex's hair.

"He loves him," William said.

Janet flicked his arm. "No me digas que you performed the wedding ceremony and you're just now realizing they're in love?"

William chuckled. "I was pretty deep in denial."

"Ay, don't tell me you're a homophobe at heart, Bill?" Janet teased.

"No, but don't you feel even the slightest bit rattled?" He gestured at the newlyweds. "That's the same man who massacred innocents in his blind quest for vengeance."

"And **you** are the same man who punched his son in the face."

"That- that's not comparable at all," William protested.

"People change, Bill." Janet twined her arm around his. "Someone who's made terrible decisions in their past is still deserving of compassion and love." She whispered now, because the song was over and Desmond was coming over, dragging Alex along behind him.

"Hey Dad. Thanks again, for marrying us."

Alex snorted. "Well who the fuck else was gonna do it?"

"He only officialized what you two already had," Janet said, smiling brightly.

William coughed. "I... I'm sorry I wasn't all too supportive at first."

"At first? More like forever!" Desmond laughed. "But it's fine, I get it. I know we're a pretty odd couple." He squeezed Alex's hand. "So, **husband** ," he said, really basking in the word, "you ready to consume some cake?"

"Maybe just a little. Don't want Little Shit to become hyperglycemic."

 

* * *

"Attention everyone!" Clay dinged a spoon against the rim of his third (at least) glass of wine. "Thisere affair may not have a best man designated, but summody's got to give a speech, haven't they?"

Rebecca clapped her hands together rhythmically. "Speech, speech, speech-"

Clay held his fork up to cut off her chant. "Shh! I'm arready quite on it."

"You're already drunk, Clay," Desmond said in a stage whisper.

Clay waved this off. "Nah, m'fine, don' worry, Des."

"I know drunks, and I know you, and right now, you're drunk," insisted Desmond.

"Only by half," Clay said, "An' truly, whassa wedding without a bit of drunken discourse?" He did, however, make a show of putting down his wine glass before continuing his speech. "Arright. I've known Desmond here maybe not as long as some. But full dishclosure: we useta date." He wiped a stray lock of hair out of his face. "Though not truly 'date', not in the 'hold hands, dine out, catch a movie' type sense, I think we all get the drift, eh?"

"Fuck, Clay," Desmond hissed.

Clay grinned like a maniac. "Hark! He thus admits our trysts!" His drunkenness ebbed and flowed without warning: just a second ago he'd been slurring up a storm, and now he spoke clearly and crisply. "Yes, we were, well, not 'lovers', no. Partners. Paramours. _Kochankowie_."

"What's your point?" Alex's voice cut through the nonsense.

"Point, point...." Clay scratched his head, picked up his glass for another sip. "Oh yes. The point I'm making is... I recall Desmond always putting off his exodus from the metaphorical closet." Clay caught Desmond's semi-upset glance, and shot him a snarky smile. "Somethin' about his rich Assassin family heritage, an obligation to pass the genetic torch of hist'ry along to future gen'rations." The slur was starting to return. "Lucky he foun' himself this guy, eh?" He patted Alex's back amiably.

Alex made an indecipherable sound of acknowledgement.

"Hones'ly, I wouldn'a though' Alex was Dessy's type. But then again," Clay put on another grin, "I've heard from reli'ble sources, that Alex is, well... more'n meets the eye."

"Dessy" smiled despite the usage of that loathed nickname. "You sure got that right."

"Yeah, an', they've sort of jus'... latched onto each other. It's uncanny how fast. But then again, I'd rush to put a ring on it too, if I found a decent-looking guy, girl, whatever, with more tentacles than a Japanese hemrph!"

Lucy had just appeared behind Clay and firmly clamped a hand over his mouth. "I think that's enough out of you for the time being."

Clay wiggled and managed to break free. "Lemme drop the punchline at least!" he muttered to Lucy, then turned back to address the crowd. "What I'm saying, my friends, is this." He raised his near-empty glass in a high salute. "Once you go Blacklight, you never go back, right?!"

Desmond slumped down in his chair and facepalmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Timecard background by SirNait on deviantART](http://sirnait.deviantart.com/art/Wedding-Invitation-Cards-design-350012001), licensed as [Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/).


	20. Together in the Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be longer but pblth

Desmond lost count of how many people came up to him during dinner to shake his hand and offer well-wishes. He did note that many of the out-of-towners didn't try to shake Alex's hand, but just looked at him with a subdued and quizzical awe. (Perhaps they had trouble reconciling the conflicting concepts of "sentient biological weapon that killed thousands of people" and "short emo-dorky-looking guy that apparently lets Desmond boink him up the butt".)

When Alex inevitably met their stares with one of his own, that was the real test. Some smiled nervously, and Alex did the same back. Others broke eye contact and shuffled away, and Alex frowned at their retreat.

"They're scared of me still," he grumbled under his breath after yet another guest shied from his gaze.

"Well, you are a pretty deadly guy when you put your mind to it." 

"S'not like I can kill people just by looking at 'em."

Desmond touched his hand and gave him a warm smile. "I dunno, man. When you look at me with those heartstopping eyes..."

Half of Alex's mouth curled into a grin. "That's a special move I reserve for you, Des."

They looked up at the sound of Rebecca clearing her throat. She had a camera out and ready. "You two okay for a photo? I'd take it candid, but I recall Alex doesn't like that too much."

Alex nodded his consent. "Yes. We should capture some memories of today."

Desmond leaned in on his shoulder and they displayed their rings for Rebecca to snap a couple shots.

"Nice, nice," she said. "You're pretty photogenic, the both of you."

"Like you would tell us if we weren't," Desmond joshed.

"It's true, you are a handsome pair of gentlemen."

Desmond snapped his head around, eyes going wide. "Gramma Gracie? Wow, I didn't know you were here!"

Gramma Gracie was a slightly stooped woman with wild off-white curls and angular blue-framed glasses. "I arrived just in time to hear your sweet vows," she said, giving Desmond a hug. "Ohh, doesn't time fly? My little grandbaby is all grown."

"You haven't aged a bit, though," Desmond said genuinely.

"Oh pish." She waved a disbeliefing hand. "After I got the invitation, I felt sentimental, went looking through some old albums, and I most definitely **have** aged."

Alex had been silent through their back-and-forth, but now a little "Uff" sound escaped him.

Desmond was instantly holding his hand again. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Alex gave his belly a pat. "He just keeps surprising me with prods and pokes."

"Right, right. So, uh, Gramma Gracie, this is Alex, my boyfr- er, husband. Heh. And Alex, this is Grace Miles, my dad's mom, my grandma. And Deon's great-grandma." Desmond smiled back at the old woman. "Whattya think of that?"

"Frankly, I hadn't quite believed the news until today," Grace said in that dry airy voice of hers. "I've seen some wonders in my time on this earth, but a man with child... that's quite an extraordinary wonder."

"I'm not exactly a man," Alex said with a light shrug.

Desmond smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Hey, you're plenty man enough for me."

"You two be sure to treat each other right," Grace admonished. "And that boy as well."

"We'll try our darnedest," Desmond promised her.

 

* * *

 

After dinner (feat. cake and steak), gifts (Alex would never have trouble finding silverware again), another hour of dancing (Clay and Lucy's fiery tango stole the show for a bit), and a few more photoshoots, handshakes, and tidbits of wisdom ("Il n'est rien de réel que le rêve et l'amour," said a man Desmond knew as Grampa France), the festivities were finally winding down and the happy couple stole away as cleanup began.

Desmond was so giddy he practically floated down the hallway. "God, I'm actually married."

"Yeah," Alex said, holding his hand up to inspect his ring closely for about the thirtieth time since he'd received it.

"Can't hardly believe it." Desmond turned around and walked backwards because he couldn't get enough of looking at Alex. "Wasn't that long ago I was super super in the closet, and today I actually got gay married up in front of three hundred people. All 'cause of you, man."

"Well, me and Deon."

Desmond snickered. "Yeah. Guess we gotta be thankful for your weird biology, 'cause if you hadn't'a got pregnant, I wouldn't'a came out, we wouldn't'a started living together, and so on, so on..."

Alex "mrm"ed pensively.

"I mean, maybe I still would'a fallen for you eventually," Desmond said as they climbed the stairs. "You're pretty damn lovable underneath that hardass exterior. And I **was** planning to come out sometime in the near future, once I figured out a gentle way to tell my folks those important genetic memories are going to die with me."

Alex walked faster, getting right up next to Desmond. "Let's not be concerned with what-ifs. This is our now."

Desmond smiled at him. "You're right as always. I sure married a smart guy." He reached out to turn the knob of their door and push it open. "Now me, I'm smart enough to know you probly don't wanna be carried over the threshold, which is good, 'cause I'm not super confident I could physically do it."

"Heh. Yeah." Alex nodded and headed in. As another wedding gift from friends and family, their suite had been spiffed up since they were last in it: floors vacuumed, shelves dusted, floral arrangement on the kitchen table, and so on. They glanced around a bit, appreciating it, then with wordless agreement made their way to the bedroom.

"So... wedding night," Desmond said, smile now so broad it threatened to rip his face clear in half. "And all that that implies."

"What **does** it imply, in our case?" Alex asked, running his thumb over the wedding band. "Our virginities have been obliterated long ago."

"Well, we could try something new? Like... um, I've had this fantasy of fucking in the shower-"

"Not gonna happen," Alex interjected.

"Really? Just flat-out rejecting my-"

Alex crossed his arms. "We could fuck in the shower if the **water** isn't running."

"Oh. Right, okay." Desmond fiddled with his tie for a bit before going ahead and taking it off. "Um..." He wound the silk idly around his fingers for a bit, lost in thought, then gave a sudden cheeky grin. "What are your thoughts on bondage?"

"Thoughts... on bondage."

"Y'know, restraints and stuff." Desmond took hold of Alex's hands, wrapped the wrists together loosely with his necktie. "Like so."

Alex gave the necktie and then Desmond a puzzled look. "This won't hold me."

Desmond chuckled. "I'm not **really** trying to hold you, okay? It's pretend. A fantasy."

Alex looked a bit more puzzled. "You fantasize about holding me captive?"

"No, but... power exchange is supposed to be sexy. I've heard."

"Was it sexy when Abstergo held **you** captive?"

"Fine, I guess this is not really a turn-on for you." Desmond took the necktie from around Alex's wrists and threw it on the dresser with a sigh. "But I wanna do **something** special tonight, so... I dunno, you got any ideas?"

Alex shot him a smarmy leer. "You're gonna do me. Aren't I special?"

"Oh you know you are," Desmond answered, folding his arms and grinning back. "So tell me, Mister Special. How should we consummate this marriage? Whaddya wanna do?"

Alex sat down on the bed. Someone had done it up in fancy plush satin for the occasion, and he ran his fingers over the smooth red material for a few moments, thoughtfully silent.

Desmond watched him and wondered what was going through his head. "No pressure, okay?" he said, starting to unbutton his tuxedo. "Just... whatever you're up for."

Alex stretched out supine across the bed, and his "outfit" appeared to stretch with him, accomodating every inch of ample pregnancy as if it were the fanciest spandex.

"Real convenient we didn't hafta custom order a maternity tux, huh?"

"Mrm." Alex stroked the side of his belly as the tuxedo rippled away into nudity.

"He still kickin' up a storm in there?" Desmond asked, shuffling out of his suit pants.

"Nah. Ooh." Alex cracked a smile and Desmond saw a bulge briefly jut out from the vast pale orb.

"Uhh, sure looks like he's kicking."

"These? These aren't kicks." Alex said the word with sneering scorn. "Lately, Little Shit prefers- urh- prefers to lash out with tendrils. Like he's- ooh- testing the boundaries of his confinement."

Desmond shivered. "I don't like the sound of that. You sure he's not comin' anytime soon?"

Alex closed his eyes and hummed for a moment, delving within himself to double-check the status of his offspring. They were linked together, even moreso than a human parent and child; before he'd even known of the pregnancy, he'd been somewhat aware that something was unusual, and he'd cultivated their connection further in these past months. "Yes. I'm sure. He's still so weak. So underdeveloped."

Desmond leaned over and pulled open one of his eyes. "Dude, have you ever **seen** a baby? Weak and underdeveloped is pretty much par for the course." Another disconcerting wave of motion started up. "Seriously, it almost looks like he's fixing to explode outta there any second, just like that movie. I mean, you'd survive it, obviously, but-"

"He's not ready to leave just yet. I can feel it."

Desmond, fully divested of his stifling suit now, snuggled up beside him. "You'll tell me well in advance, right?"

"...I'm not sure how far in advance I'll know."

"Right, that's real comforting." Desmond rubbed his palms into his face. "God, this'll be a fun night. Can't even fuck you 'cause I can't shake the idea you could start, like, having contractions in the middle of it."

Faster than visible, Alex flipped up from his recumbent position to where he was crouched predatorily on all fours over Desmond. "I told you he's not ready," he said in slow breathy huffs, eyes dilated wide. "Unwavering trust, you said."

"Urk..." Desmond's breath was nearly crushed out of him by the heavy belly, but he managed to sputter, "Okay, okay, trust is... important in a marriage!" He shoved at Alex until he moved a little and his lungs were free from the weight. "Okay. Whew. So let's, uh, try to forget the baby might be coming any day, and uh, focus on our own cumming?"

Alex rolled his eyes at the ridiculous wordplay. "Let's skip the jokes."

Desmond just grinned up at him. "Hey, it's in my DNA to make bad jokes. And I know you love my DNA."

Alex slowly cracked a smile. "Yes. Yes I do." He trailed a soft hand down Desmond's chest. "I. Love. You." He said the words staccato, noting the warm flush they elicited from the man beneath him.

"I love you too." The words didn't feel awkward, not anymore. They felt so very right; as natural as breathing.

"We should consummate our love," Alex murmured, brushing his palm down the length of Desmond's cock, feeling it respond with an eager pulse.

"No argument from me there." Desmond grabbed Alex's shoulders and pulled himself upright to kiss him, practically devouring his face with heavy, panting, impatient lips.

"Slow down," Alex said, pushing him an inch away. "We have all night."

"I can't help myself, man. You're just so fucking hot and sexy, even with this!" Desmond patted Alex's belly. "I mean, it's weird, 'cause normally a guy with a gut is one of my worst turn-offs, but I still think you're insanely hot." He laughed. "Only problem I have with your gut, is it kinda limits the positions we can do, huh?"

"You forget again," Alex said, grinning shrewdly, "I'm not subject to human limitations."

"But Deon's not you; we don't know what could-"

"Forget him. Tonight is about **us**."

"Look, I know I used'ta always forget you were pregnant, but that was months ago. It's kinda hard to forget him when he's right the fuck there." Desmond shook the belly with both his hands for emphasis.

Alex harrumphed and pressed back into the kiss. Desmond's head spun, nostrils filling with the unique scent of him, and his hands wandered busily down below to Alex's twitching cock, kneading and squeezing as it engorged with desire.

"OAAAHUHHH," Alex moaned into his mouth, and before they knew it, he was bent on all fours, gravid belly drooping to touch the bedsheets as Desmond dripped lube down the furrow of his ass. Sure, they didn't technically need to use lube, what with the stuff Alex's insides generated, but someone had taken the trouble of leaving some out on the bedside table, so why the hell not?

"I wonder whose idea that was, actually?" Desmond wondered, fingerpainting a lazy swirl on one buttcheek.

Alex didn't answer, being too busy panting and shivering under his touch.

"But then again, maybe I don't wanna know specifically who. " Desmond probed into Alex gently with his thumb. "You can taste with your whole body, right? How d'ya like this 'Mint Sin-sation' stuff?"

Alex bucked against his hand and spat out, "It's fucking fine, okay?!"

"Easy there, I'm just asking. I mean, for me personally, I think all flavored lube tastes like ass. And not the good kind of ass." Then finally shutting up, Desmond fingered him a little more before pulling out to wipe off his thoroughly-slippery hand.

Alex protested the removal vociferously. "Take me, urrgh, fill me! I need you now, Des!"

Desmond leaned over and planted a kiss on the small of Alex's back, right in the small valley of his spinal curvature (except he didn't really have a spine, so... yeah).

"I didn't ask for kisses!" Alex growled.

"Well, you're getting them anyway."

"Nrrgh, stop being so stupidly romantic! Hurry up and fuck me!"

"Lemme get all ready first, man." Desmond chuckled as he slipped on a condom, a resplendent red one that matched the satin sheets. "And, hey, what happened to 'slow down, we have all night'?"

"I changed my mind!" Alex's limbs twitched madly. "Please, Des! Now!"

So Desmond obeyed. He took firm hold of Alex's hips and slammed right in, inducing a loud screeching "Yeeeesss!" of ecstacy.

"Yeah," Desmond responded, pulling out slowly. "You're mine. Mine." He slammed in again with gusto on the repetition.

"Yeessss," Alex groaned, eyes half-lidded in rapture. "So good. So deep. So hard." Tendrils sprouted from his waist and licked over Desmond's fingers. One in particular took great delight in feeling the wedding ring. "Together. Forever."

Desmond noticed that tendril's attention, smiled, and paused his thrusting momentarily to graze it with a kiss. "God, you're so fucking beautiful," he murmured against the silky blackness.

"Why did you stop?" Alex rumbled, clenching handfuls of sheet.

"I just..." Desmond turned his hand over slowly to look at the ring anew. The tendril flickered and lengthened, wrapping around his palm. "I need a moment. You're so fucking-"

"Beautiful, yes, I heard the first time." It wasn't a word Alex would have chosen to describe himself, but it pleased him to know Desmond thought that way.

"And I'm married to you." Desmond grinned hugely. "The world's deadliest virus has made me the world's luckiest man."

"Less luck, more fuck, please."

Desmond shrugged lightheartedly. "As you wish." He gave the tendril another quick kiss before getting back down to business.

"Ahhh." Alex's iron grip on the sheets relaxed as the hot hard flesh pounded through him. He did his best not to think about being the world's deadliest virus. Here with Desmond, he could just **be**. Be pleasured by sensual soft touches all over his body. Be overcome with that heady emotion that had to be love. Be filled with hope for the future they might build together.

...Ah, but the future was a far-off thing. Alex shoved it away and relaxed further, letting his thought processes go dim and giving in to the warmth blooming from Desmond's hands on his back, the sparks of passion lit by their joining, the throbbing loss of control. Desmond smelled so damn good, leaning into him with each leisurely thrust, hands roaming over smooth round sensitive skin, murring "God, you're so full, so fuckin' stuffed," half-drunk in his ear. "So fuckin' preggo, so fuckin' horny."

Alex could do nothing but nod agreement as he rocked back and forth to get Desmond deeper in him, as deep as humanly (virally) possible.

"My horny hormonal huuusband," Desmond crooned.

Alex moaned with satisfaction. Unconscious tendrils were tugging and stroking his cock, matching the rhythm of Desmond's thrusts, every one of which pushed him closer and closer to the ineffable sweetness of climax. At some point (he'd long since lost all sense of time passing) he sensed a change in the pitch of Desmond's breaths, a slight slowing of his pace, a tensing of his thighs.

"You're gonna cum," Alex said with a touch of playfulness.

"Unh, y-yeah!" Desmond's hands dug tight into Alex's hips and the next thing out of his mouth was an unintelligible river of guttural sounds.

And Alex was right there with him, right at the melting point, twitching jerkily, droplets spurting without regard across the fancy sheet as he luxuriated in the foggy scent of their mutual lust.

Eventually they collapsed in a heap, the both of them panting out tired laughs. Desmond found himself happily trapped between strong arms and full belly as Alex looked deep into his eyes.

"You are my only," Alex said sleepily.

 _Your only what?_ Desmond would have usually joked back, but right now he didn't need to ask, because he felt the exact same way. "Love," he said, and kissed Alex's nose.

Alex purred and closed his eyes to fall asleep right there with his sweet singular human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Il n'est rien de réel que le rêve et l'amour." = "Nothing is real but dreams and love."


	21. To Live Beside You, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot? What plot? Plot is just a myth. Nothin' but smut and fluff here.

A jolt to his ribs knocked Desmond awake, though he was drowsy and uncertain where the jolt had come from. The room was dark, and smelled of mint. "Mrgble," he said through a yawn. The warmth of Alex's arm draped over his shoulder nearly had him lulled back asleep, but then another jolt came.

"Urgh. Deeeonnn," Desmond moan-slurred to Alex's belly. "Stop it. Y'know he gets annoyed when you kick too much."

Then... there was calm.

"Good. Thanks."

Whoops; he'd spoken too soon, for just then Deon resumed his activity. Worming his way out of Alex's embrace to escape the flurries, Desmond sat up on the edge of the bed and blinked crud out of his eyes. The only light came from the red digits 4:26 on a clock across the room. "Geez, woken up in the night by a baby that's not even fuckin' born yet." He flicked on a lamp, spilling a little more soft illumination over the bed, and saw that Alex was still completely still. "Oh great, you kicked **me** awake but **he's** still in hibernation. Fantastic."

The clock flickered to 4:27.

Now that Desmond wasn't ensconced in Alex's warmth, he noticed how chilly the room was. Luckily, one of their wedding gifts had been a luxurious "His & His" robe set, and he wrapped one around himself. _Wish we'd gotten a friggin' space heater, but this'll have to do me for now._

Something was itching on his finger, and he started to remove it, but then- "Oh." He smiled in the dimness and rubbed the ring. _Guess I just gotta get used to how this feels on there. Same as how I got used to wearing Hidden Blades. That was weird for a while, too... though, unlike those, this is gonna stay on 24/7. Till death do us part...._ Oh boy. That was a train of thought he didn't want to go down. He headed to the bathroom, splashed water on his face, and sighed at his reflection in the mirror. _Stay positive. You're young, newly married... sure it's a little weird that your hubby can survive a literal nuclear explosion and you could get taken out by a stray bullet or a zombie bite or any stupid thing, but whatever, let's just try not to think about our comparative mortalities. Think about life instead._ He chuckled to himself, smiling automatically. _Yeah, that's right. We got a new life on the way._

He swung back to the bedroom and lifted a sheet to uncover something in the corner. It was the crib, long since fully assembled by now. They'd debated on-and-off about whether Deon should sleep in the same room as them, or in the other, smaller bedroom of their family suite. Both of them flip-flopped on the issue a couple times but had eventually come to the conclusion that they'd at least give room-sharing a try.

"Hopefully you'll sleep enough that we can continue to, y'know, do what married couples do," Desmond said, smoothing out a wrinkle in the crib liner. He then turned and looked over at Alex in a messy mound of satin sheets.

At just that moment, the mound stirred and Alex sat up with a snort.

"Hey there."

Like a computer reinitializing, Alex took a couple seconds to fully awaken. "...Were you watching me sleep?"

Desmond smiled and rested his head in his hand. "Maybe."

Alex looked down at his belly, splayed a hand over it. "His sleep cycles aren't tied to mine," he said with slight astonishment. Then his other hand made a snap-reflex movement to join the first.

Startled, Desmond clambered onto the bed. "You okay? Baby okay?"

"We're fine." Alex was touching his wedding ring, apparently having just now re-realized it was on his finger. "Heh. Sorry to cause concern. Just not accustomed to this feeling."

Desmond laughed. "I had the same reaction just a few ago when I woke up. When Deon woke me up, actually." He pointed to Alex's belly. "Even more rambunctious than yesterday. Maybe it's all the sugary cake you had."

"Maybe he just wants out."

Desmond looked pained. "Please, not yet. I wanna have a decent-length honeymoon before getting swamped down in endless parenting."

"Like I said last night, he's got a while to go." Alex rubbed his belly, trying (with not much success) to calm Deon. "Urg. Sometimes I'm tempted to evict him early."

Desmond quirked an eyebrow. "You could do that? Like, make yourself go into labor?"

"I could try," Alex said, incidentally forming some clothes on. "But I'm not sure it's a good idea."

"Right." Desmond nodded with relief. "Probably better to let it happen naturally."

"If we can call anything about this 'natural'. Uff." Alex heaved himself out of the bed and went to the window. Rather than his standard jeans-shirt-hoodie-jacket combo, right now he'd only "put on" thin rayon trousers and an unbuttoned shirt. He scanned the city nightscape for a few moments, then looked back at Desmond and said "Honeymoon" in an open-ended way.

"Yep. We're on our honeymoon." Desmond sat up and rested his arms on his knees. "So... whattya wanna do?"

Alex glanced away, out the window again. A light snow haze was falling.

"Keep in mind it's gotta be something around here. I mean, I'd love a big swanky Caribbean cruise, but that's sadly out of the question."

Alex traced a line down the cool windowpane with his finger. After a little more thought, he decided on an answer. "It's enough for this restless warrior just to be with you."

Desmond nearly hnnnngggg from the sudden wave of moё. He'd been pretty damn head over heels for Alex already, but now the guy was quoting love songs at him?! "Da-hamn, man."

Alex glanced back. "Is something wrong?"

Desmond laughed. "No, nothing's wrong. Everything's **right**. I just... I love ya so much, Alex." He got up and walked over to take Alex's hands. "I can definitely feel the love tonight."

Alex hummed agreement as he kneaded Desmond's palms. The right one was perceptibly stiffer than the left, and always had been, ever since he'd first felt it. This, he knew, was the residual impact from an old burn wound, from countless joules of energy generated with an ancient battery. He remembered that night, when Manhattan's lights went dim underneath a sky glowing with abstract energy. Back then, he'd wondered what was happening. Never would he have guessed the entire planet was seeing the same thing, or that this global phenomenon was caused by the selfless and near-fatal actions of a single human.

And, of course, he'd never in a million years have dreamed that this same human would find him and lead him to love.

Consumed by these thoughts, he almost didn't notice Desmond was speaking to him again. "Y'know, that song's nice and all, but some'a the lyrics don't make no sense."

Alex looked up from the faded scar tissue. "Hmm?"

"Like 'leave the very best'. Why would love make anyone- king, vagabond, whatever- leave the very best? I mean, by definition, that means they're leaving for someone worse."

"...The word is ' **be** lieve'. 'Believe the very best'."

"Oohhh. That makes a little more sense." Desmond smiled and leaned over to nuzzle his cheek against Alex's soft hair.

"Why are you doing that?" Alex asked, with only the barest hint of irritation.

Desmond took a deep pull of his newlywed's scent before answering. "Because your hair feels so nice. It's like your best feature. Besides your ass." He gave said ass a firm squeeze, causing Alex to make a short choked "errh" in surprise.

_perverse- admiration- such boldness- we love it- more- now- forever!_

Suddenly Alex's clothes were gone and Desmond was holding handfuls of bare flesh. "Oh, he-llo. Looks like **some** body likes having their ass grabbed," he said, sing-song teasingly.

"I like most any way you touch me, Des." Alex slid one hand up to caress Desmond's neck, the other down to untie his robe. "And I like to touch you back." The plush fabric soon fell to the floor and Alex stood on tiptoe to kiss him deeply.

Desmond sighed dreamily, letting go of that alluring ass as his whole body swam with tingling bliss. Alex's hands gripped his shoulders for a minute before starting to wander over the various muscles in his back, massaging them firmly, working out every knot of tension he found along the way.

Wanting to reciprocate the touch, Desmond settled his hands on Alex's chest, rubbing at first in a precise pattern, but then losing track of that pattern when a tonguetip ventured into his mouth and started tasting him, because _wow_ that was a new and awesome sensation. All too soon, he found himself needing to come up for air.

When their lips separated, Alex was panting and breathless as well. "Very niiice," he said, drawing out the final syllable.

"Yeah... You sure got a talented tongue."

"You got a delicious mouth. I want lube flavored like **that**."

This remark earned a little snorting laugh.

"By the way." Alex smiled and guided Desmond's hands down from chest to belly. "Feel."

"What, is he kicking? Or tendril-ing, or whatever?"

"Nope. Asleep."

"So... while he's asleep, you wanna-"

"Fuck, yeah." Alex's smile became a hungry grin and he flung out a tendril to retrieve the bottle of lubricant. "Are you up for being on the bottom this time?" he asked, sensual scintillas flashing in his cool blue eyes.

"Uhh...." Desmond gulped and took a half-step back. The other two times he'd bottomed for Alex, he'd been awfully sore the next morning.

Alex put out a half-dozen tentacles to trail streaks of warmth down Desmond's bare chest while his hands were busy drizzling lube over his shaft. "I'll be careful, Des, like always. I promise."

Heat was flaring within Desmond at the sight of that slick wet cock, standing at attention, bumping up against the low-hanging curve of late pregnancy. He let out a shivering sigh, remembering how good it felt inside him. So thick, yet so goddamn flexible. Hell, that feeling was worth being sore after. "All right. Let's do it."

Alex grabbed his head and kissed him again. "So good to know you trust me with your body." His words were straightforward, not intended to arouse, but his hot breath so close on Desmond's lips made the sentence feel like the dirtiest dirty talk.

"Yes, oh god yes," Desmond said, dizzy with devotion and desire. "I trust you to the end of the universe, Alex."

Alex grinned and let him go. "Then get in position."

Desmond arranged his discarded robe into a cushion between himself and the floor, then got on all fours and gladly presented his ass. Almost immediately, Alex started probing him, two fingers cold with Mint Sin-Sation. Desmond shuddered.

Alex stroked his shoulder. "Relax. Trust me."

"I'm relaxed, I trust you," Desmond said quickly. Alex pushed a little deeper. "Ah! Oh, that's- oh, I love you."

"I know." Alex twisted his wrist and Desmond gasped at the sensation. "But still. It's nice to hear."

"I love you," Desmond repeated. Alex slid another finger in and he said it again. The fingers became smoother, elongating into tentacles, and he said it yet again. They fell into a rhythm like that: he redeclared his love with every little sliding motion, until Alex patted his back and said, "I think you're ready."

"Yeah, I'm ready," Desmond said without hesitation. Clearly Alex, for all his strength and power, was at heart a tender top.

Alex pulled out the slick tentacles and pressed his cockhead slowly against the inviting hole. Desmond let out an automatic "Nnh", a squeaky throaty sound that touched Alex deeply. He patted Desmond's back again to reassure him. "You can take it, Des," he crooned. "You've done it before."

"Yeah, I know." He adjusted position slightly, pointing his butt a little more upward and bracing himself. "Right. Go ahead."

Alex moved forward, sinking into Desmond's depths, all-too-aware of the bloodflow pumping through these sensitive tissues. He began, unknowingly, to whisper-mutter his thoughts aloud. "Good... Tight.... Squeeze.... Des."

"Unh, yeah," Desmond grunted, cock twitching against his abs. He tried to balance on one arm and touch himself with the other hand, but Alex was atop him and god **damn** he was heavy.

"Together.... Des.... Warm.... Nice.... Niiiccce," Alex hissed the repetition through a rapturous smile as he pulled back slowly, almost all the way.

"Ah, a-ah," Desmond gasped when the bulge at the tip skimmed over his prostate on the way out. "Fuck, thas'good!"

"Gooood," Alex echoed, the rumbling word seeming to fill the room and surround Desmond with warmth.

"Don't stop!"

Alex obliged, sliding back in, a little quicker this time.

Desmond's cock twitched again. No, it more than twitched: it fucking jumped.

Alex started to thrust in earnest, flicking his hips back and forth fluidly, the underside of his belly rubbing up on the small of Desmond's back. He continued to babble in free verse, one gravelly word at a time. "Close... Des... Cock... Fuck... Warm... Slide... Join... Life."

"God, Alex!" Desmond cried out, now almost painfully erect and still unable to reach his dick. "Need-"

"Yes... husband," Alex murmured, and a company of tendrils came to attend Desmond's aching member, running up and down and all over it with unfathomably perfect touch.

Desmond closed his eyes tight. "Ah, fuck..." He was surrounded by his love, his sweet delicious Alex. He humped forward into Alex, rocked backwards onto Alex, felt Alex caressing his back and his thighs and his chest. This was the life. "God, you're so good!"

"Yeah. I still got it." Alex increased his speed and tweaked the angle to try and hit Desmond's prostate every time. "All swollen up with your stupid spawn, but still able to fuck you good and hard when I want."

"Yeah, oh yeah," Desmond answered back. "You can fuckin' own my ass, Alex."

Alex chuckled. "We own each other's asses now, don't we, _husband_?"

"Yes!" This was less an actual thought-out reply and more an automatic yell. "Oh fuck, I'm close!"

"I know." Alex could taste the closeness, sense it in Desmond's every quivering muscle. He was getting exhausted, mind going foggy, but did his best to keep up the pace of his thrusts and his teasing tendrils. "I'm close too."

Desmond almost didn't want to cum, because then this would be over and done with, this amazing fullness of Alex in his ass. "Don't stop!"

"Ohh, Des." Alex had no intention of stopping. Everything was so delicious on his skin, bringing out pleasure in every molecule of his being. "Ohhh, I'm going to cum in you, Des..."

"Do it, unh! Oh, yeah, cum all up in me!"

"I'll cum- mmm- deep and hard. I'll- nnh- knock you up!"

Desmond was way too close to the edge to really comprehend Alex's words. "Ohh yeah, ohh god, it feels so good..."

"Yess," Alex hissed, eyes closed against the flashing colors in his vision. "We'll both be- ohh- full of Blacklight babies! So many, they'll- mng- cover the world! Ah!" He threw his head forward, letting the sinful waves of orgasm finally overtake him.

Somehow a tendril had gotten in Desmond's mouth and he bit down on it savagely until the fresh feeling of Alex releasing inside him was the last straw, and drove him at last to his own release, and his jaw went slack.

There were no more lusty yells; the room was all quiet save for scattered gasps, little grunts, and a last breathy moan of "Love you, Desmond."

 

* * *

 

Afterward, Desmond's new robe was filthy. He didn't want to take it down to the public laundry room, so he set it soaking in the tub (first giving his body a quick rinse, of course). Upon returning to the bedroom, the first hint of a sunrise was peeking through the window as he threw on his usual casualwear. Alex was chilling on the bed, back in his trousers and shirt, hand resting atop his belly.

That hand reminded Desmond of something. "Um. You didn't mean it, did you?"

"Hrm?"

"About getting me 'full of Blacklight babies'." Desmond put a hand on his own stomach, looking worried.

Alex laughed a husky snort. "Of course not."

Desmond still looked worried.

"S'not like I really could. And even if I could, it would be hella impractical for us to have another Little Shit on the way right now. When I said that, it was just... a fantasy."

"...That is a really **bizarre** fantasy."

Alex turned over to face away from him. "I'm a bizarre guy," he muttered.

Desmond, sensing Alex was hurt, touched his shoulder soothingly. "Sorry. No offense, but..." He trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence.

Alex turned back to him, never mind that this action woke Deon up again. "It's... viral nature. The desire to spread ourselves, to infect and replicate. We... I know it's stupid, but I always kinda think about it when I'm... horny." He said this last word with uncharacteristic shyness.

Desmond tried not to look too horrified. "You always think about getting me pregnant?"

"Not always pregnant. Usually the thoughts... aren't that specific. Just... this base drive, underneath everything. I don't know how to explain it." Alex formed his hoodie on, shading his face from view. "I'm sorry."

Desmond sighed. "As long as you don't actually infect me during sex-"

"Obviously I won't," Alex inserted. "I reabsorb it all after orgasm. I've never left a single cell of myself inside you."

"Okay then. I trust you." Desmond gave a little smile. "Guess you can't help having an infection fetish. After all, you were kinda designed for it."

"Some days I hate how I was designed." Alex frowned at his belly. "Especially these days."

"Hey, no," Desmond said gently, coming to sit on the bed beside him. "Don't bring Deon into this." He stroked Alex's head through the hood. (Though he wanted to take it off and pet his hair, he figured Alex was a little too irritated right now to allow that.) "You can't be mad at him. He brought us together."

"We were already together, that's how he happened in the first place," Alex said huffily.

"Oh, you know what I mean, asshat." Desmond swatted him. "Sure he's unplanned, but we're gonna be good parents for him all the same, all right? And good parents don't resent their kid's existence."

Alex crossed his arms and grumbled.

"I think it's cool you can have babies," Desmond offered.

"Cool," Alex repeated with flat disbelief.

"Yeah, like another one'a your superpowers."

"Doesn't help me fight. Quite the opposite, in fact. I'm weaker, slower, clumsier-"

"Okay," Desmond interrupted, "you're a little off your game right now, but I bet you'll bounce right back after giving birth. And anyway, fighting isn't the be-all end-all of existence, man. You told me yourself you didn't like being a nonstop kill machine."

"Hm. True." The smallest of smiles appeared on Alex's face. "And once he's old enough, we can team up."

"Sure, sure. You, me, and Deon. We'll team up and kick more ass than ever." Desmond dared to rub Alex's belly; just lightly brushing the skin at first, but then when Alex closed his eyes and started to make that contented lion-purr sound he started to really go at it. "Oh, you like bellyrubs, do ya?"

"S'kinda nice," Alex conceded. "Mrm. Maybe this stupid little miracle of life isn't so bad."

"That's the spirit." Desmond gave Alex's belly a hug, nuzzling up close to it. "Hear that, Deon? You're not so bad." There came a kick against his cheek. "Oh, woah. Alex, I don't think he's sideways anymore."

"He hasn't been sideways for a while now," Alex said as if it should be obvious. "Doesn't weigh one and a half pounds anymore either. More like five and a half."

"Jesus, really? Whoof." Desmond stared at Alex's belly. "Well, I guess you are kinda bigger than you were at the baby shower."

Alex nodded. "We must be in the equivalent of the third trimester. That's when most fetal weight gain occurs."

"Hm." Desmond pondered for a moment. "D'ya think, since this pregnancy's going by fast, he'll grow up fast, too?"

Alex shrugged. "Fuck if I know."

Desmond sighed. "Guess we'll find out in time, huh?" He rubbed Alex's tummy some more. "Oh, Deon. You're one mysterious miracle."


	22. Be As Gentle As I Can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Almond are very domestic and eventually have their baby

"Y'know, a space heater would be nice for a birthday gift," Desmond hinted. (Or perhaps "hinted" wasn't the best word to use, since he was really just outright suggesting it.) "Gets real cold in here sometimes."

Alex, standing at the balcony door, rolled his eyes. "Sure. I'll just head down to Best Buy and pick one up while I'm out today."

Desmond looked up from his laptop. "You're going out today?"

"Yeah."

"Even though you're hugely hugely preggo?"

Alex shrugged jerkily. "Hasn't stopped me so far." Then he turned from the glass door, looking at Desmond with an unreadable expression. "Am I really that huge?"

Desmond pressed his lips together tightly, considering his next words with the utmost care. The last thing he wanted was for Alex to think he was being called "fat" and flip out into a fit of viral hormonal rage. "Um. Well, I guess maybe not? No, you're, uh..."

Alex squinted at him.

"I mean, for how far along you are, this is probably a normal size, actually." Desmond capped this off with a small casual-type laugh.

Alex sighed, pressing a hand to the side of his swollen stomach, where Deon was focusing his kicking attention right now. "For a given definition of 'normal'."

"Ah!" Desmond got up from the table. "Speaking of normality, or lack thereof, do we have any idea if he's got a normal human digestive system? 'Cause we needa get the baby food situation figured out."

"I thought about that too." Alex smiled a little. "Even went for another stupid ultrasound to see about it."

"Wait... You got an ultrasound without me?"

The smile changed swiftly into dismay. "You... wanted to be there?"

"Well, duh! I woulda liked to at least have the option to see our kid again!"

"Sorry," Alex said stiffly. "You'll see him plenty after he's born, though."

Desmond made an exasperated sound. "That's not the same, but whatever, fine. I'll try not to be too upset that you went and did this behind my back."

Alex shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "You were busy that day anyway. Getting fitted for the tux and shit. Point is, Ragland confirmed what I thought I sensed: his digestive tract is developing more-or-less like a human's." He shook his head very slightly. "But that doesn't speak to his nutritional requirements."

Desmond nodded slowly. "So, you're saying he can eat like a human but we don't know exactly what."

"Correct."

"Well then we're still at square one of what the fuck baby food we'll need. I mean, that book the doc gave us says 'breast is best' but, uh, unless you're planning to grow some-"

"Nope," Alex said shortly.

"Right, didn't think so."

"Doubt I'd produce anything like human milk anyway," he chuckled. "Though that's probably not even what he'll want to eat. I'm betting his diet will be similar to mine: mostly carnivorous."

"Hm. So, like, ground beef instead of pureed pears?"

"That'd probably do it, yeah."

"Cool. Long as we don't have to find baby Templars for him to consume."

Alex chuckled.

Desmond smiled and leaned in over Alex's belly to kiss him.

Alex was quite into the kiss, but had to tear himself away after a minute. "Sorry, but Little Shit's really, really hungry," he said, forming his jackets on. (These past few weeks he hadn't been wearing them except to go out and about.)

"All this talk of food, huh?" Desmond smiled and stroked the protruding paunch. "At least feeding him while he's inside you is no conundrum."

Alex shivered a little at the soft touch; his belly was weirdly hypersensitive lately, or at least it seemed that way when he was around Desmond. "Be back soon. Then we can continue," he promised, patting Desmond's hand.

Desmond waved as Alex slipped out onto the balcony and hopped from there over the rooftops, seeking sustenance. "Stay safe," he called, though Alex was already far too far away to hear.

Someone rapped on the apartment door. He went to open it and found Clay. "Hey man. What's up?"

"Hola. A little birdie told me you can't speak Spanish, and Alex can. So," Clay handed over a little paperback labeled _Gay Spanish for Love & Hookups_. "Although you two are a bit past 'hookup' stage now." He smirked.

"Umm, he speaks English too. We don't have any problems communicating."

Clay opened his hands and shrugged. "What can I say? I saw it in a shop window and it called out to me."

Desmond flipped through the book at random. "Well... they sure have some interesting phrases in here. Everything from 'What's your sign?' to 'Tie me up.'" He chuckled. "Sure would make learning Spanish interesting. Hey wait." He looked up, puzzled. "Is this my birthday present? Early?"

Clay gave a small nod.

"Meaning you're leaving already? It's only been like a week."

"Oh, you've nailed it." Clay smiled modestly. "I'm going out asea, down Caribbean way."

Desmond's arms slumped to his sides. "No way. **You're** going on a Caribbean cruise?! I'm the one on my honeymoon here!"

"It's no mere cruise, Desmond. It's a mission to survey a Precursor site, with possible Pieces of Eden therein."

"And why do you get picked to go on this big important mission and not me?"

"Because you're on your honeymoon. And, moreover, your spouse is about ready to pop any day."

Desmond facepalmed. "Right, right."

Clay patted his shoulder. "Don't fret; I'll take plenty of photos to show you later. Oh, and shoot me an email when Alex does pop. Me and Lucy have a friendly wager going on Deon's DOB."

"Heh. Will do. You have fun soaking up the sun in the Bahamas or wherever."

"Digging for a temple in Jamaica, but close enough." Clay waved and headed off.

 

* * *

 

Desmond woke up on his birthday same as any other day, except Alex wasn't there beside him in bed. That most likely meant one of three things: either he was out getting his consume on, or visiting with Dana, or visiting with Ragland. (He didn't really seem to like socializing with anyone else.) Desmond yawned and rubbed a spot of drool from the corner of his mouth before calling out for him. "Alex?"

The words "You're supposed to be sleeping in." floated through the open bedroom door.

"Oh so you **are** here."

"Obviously. Go back to sleep."

Desmond got up and slipped his slippers on. "Sorry man, but I'm not tired." He headed out to the hall/kitchen/living space. "If anyone should be sleeping in, it's you, 'cause you're preg- Woah." What he saw in the kitchen made him do a double-take.

Alex was standing over the stovetop, looking intensely from an open book in his hands to the frying pan, then back to the book. Salt and pepper shakers were held in two tendrils extending from his left and right shoulder, respectively, and a third one was using a spatula to turn something over in the pan.

"Are you **cooking**?" Desmond asked, because that just did not seem possible.

"I'm **trying** to," Alex snarled. The salt and pepper shakers swayed irritably. "What the fuck is 'to taste'?"

Desmond stumbled over to the couch since his legs seemed to be on the fritz right now. "It's- uh... it means 'however you like it'."

Alex thumped the book down on the counter and turned to Desmond. "Well I don't know how you like it."

Desmond gasp-laughed. "Wait, you're cooking for **me**?"

"Yeah." A timer dinged, and Alex grabbed the pan off the stove, using the spatula to scrape the contents onto a plate, then bringing it over to Desmond. "Happy Birthday, Des." He did his best to hide his frustration behind a smile.

Desmond looked at the plate. "You... you scrambled eggs for me."

"Yeah." Alex set the plate down on one arm of the couch and lowered the salt and pepper beside it. "I didn't put any in, so you can just do whatever. Oh, wait." He stretched a tendril across to the silverware drawer and retrieved a fork. "There we go."

Desmond plucked the fork from its tendril. "Thanks, man. You're awesome."

"Tch. You haven't even tasted it yet."

"Hey, even if your cooking turns out to suck, you're still awesome." Desmond popped a bite into his mouth. "Mm. Oh. This is pretty good actually! I don't even need salt and pepper!"

Alex smiled, genuinely this time.

Desmond held up the plate. "You want any?"

"Nah. I already ate a few." Alex took a seat next to Desmond on the couch.

"Good source of protein, huh?"

Alex nodded. "Protein, lipids, calcium."

Desmond paused halfway through bringing another bite to his mouth. "Calcium? I didn't think there was calcium in- unless... Don't tell me you ate the **shells** too?"

"Of course."

Desmond set down the plate. "Alex... Did you eat these eggs raw?"

Alex nodded again. "Straight from the carton. What do you care?"

Desmond jumped up and started gesticulating wildly. "Dammit, Alex, you can't eat raw eggs when you're pregnant! I read about this, it's not safe, there could be salmonella!"

"Desmond," Alex said, calmly reaching out a tendril to grab one of his flailing hands.

Desmond stopped and stared at the tendril for a second. "Oh. Right, shit." He laughed and sat back down, letting out all his misplaced worry in a sighing breath. "Sometimes I forget you're a virus."

"Hell of a thing to forget."

"Okay, I don't **really** forget it. I mean I kinda just see you as a human plus tentacles." Desmond swallowed another bite of cheesy egg. "'Cause viruses are, like, usually this microscopic thing, y'know?"

"Hrm." Alex smirked. "Well, I'm a very large colony of 'microscopic things'."

"And getting larger every day." Desmond tapped his fork on Alex's belly playfully.

"Yeah," Alex said. Then he went quiet for a bit while Desmond et up the rest of his scrambled eggs. He got up and cleared away the mess he'd made in the kitchen, even loading and running the dishwasher.

"Cooking **and** cleaning? You're such a sweetheart today," Desmond said, a tiny bit teary-eyed. "Although you didn't really have to run the dishwasher for just a plate and a pan."

Alex seemingly didn't listen to this, but just came back to stand in front of him. "I've been thinking," he said solemnly. "About birth."

"Anyone's birth in particular?" Desmond jibed.

Alex let that slide. "It occurred to me that I wouldn't have to create a new birthing orifice."

"...Huh?"

"It's all interchangeable biomass. My anus will serve perfectly fine."

Desmond shuddered. "Eurgh. I don't think so."

Alex frowned at him. "I think I know my own body better than you, Des."

"Okay, maybe it's possible-"

"It's definitely possible."

"But still, eugh! That's gross."

"How's it gross? I don't produce fecal matter. That hole's just a residual feature of human anatomy."

Desmond scratched his arm, fidgeting. "But I... I fuck you there. I don't wanna see our kid being born from the same hole I fuck you in. That's messed up."

Alex crossed his arms. "Desmond. You know how standard human reproduction works? A hole gets fucked and the baby comes out that same hole."

"Oh, geez." Desmond grimaced.

"I most likely could, if I wanted to, birth Little Shit out the same hole he was conceived in." Alex pointed to his mouth.

"Oh, **geeez**. That's some nightmare fuel there." Desmond pulled Alex's arm down. "Okay, okay, have him out your ass if you insist, but don't expect me to be paying real close attention while that happens."

Alex uncrossed his arms, but still looked miffed. "Fine, you don't have to be there when he's being born."

"Oh, I'll be there all right." Desmond patted Alex's tummy. "Wouldn't miss this guy's debut for anything. I'm just gonna let the doc handle all the nasty bits, 'kay?"

"Pff. As you wish." Alex shrugged. "However it happens, I'll just be glad to have him out."

 

* * *

 

As March marched on, Alex became restless and weird. Moreso than usual. He obsessed over reading the atmospheric viral load counts that were reported on news sites nowadays alongside the pollen and mold indices. "Do you think Manhattan will always be infested?" he asked one day over breakfast.

"Maybe." Desmond shrugged. "We seem to be getting by all right these days, though."

"Mrm." Alex closed the browser and looked over to Desmond's cereal bowl. "You finished?"

"Pretty much." Desmond slurped the last remnants of soppy milk. "Now I am, yeah. Why, you need something?"

By way of reply, Alex snatched up the bowl and spoon, then stretched his arm over to the dishwasher and dropped them in.

Desmond frowned. "Don't you dare run that with only two things in it again. Dad's yelled at me about our water usage enough."

Alex brought his arm back to a normal length and rubbed his head. "Sorry. But I want things to be clean."

Desmond's frown became a smirk. "Don't tell me **you** of all people are a germaphobe now?"

Alex exhaled. He stopped rubbing his head and started on his belly. "I think it's him," he said by way of explaining his odd actions. "He's affecting me."

Desmond let out an "Aw."

"Don't fucking 'aw'."

"Right, sorry... Wait!" Desmond's eyes went wide. "Maybe you're in that 'nesting phase' the book mentioned!"

Alex's brows twitched. "You cannot be serious."

"Didn't you even look at that guidebook Ragland got us?"

"It's written for humans."

"So? I'm human, Deon's half-human."

Alex closed his eyes and continued to mindlessly rub. "Nesting," he murmured.

"Yeah, it's some kinda instinct about making everything nice and tidy for the baby before he comes." Desmond went over to stand by his chair. "If that's what this clean-freak thing you're having is, then that'd mean he's due to be born soon."

"Mrm." Alex reopened his eyes and smiled up at Desmond. "Perhaps."

Desmond was aglow with excitement. "Oh my god, really? You feel like he's gonna come soon?"

Alex glanced down at himself briefly before looking back up. "Can't be sure. But his cellular activity has changed focus lately. Seems like he's finished developing his various organs and is just kind of... filling out, accumulating soft tissue."

"Wow, man, holy fucking wow." Desmond crouched down and stared at Alex's belly. "Are we talking, like, sometime today, or later this week, or what?"

"Can't be sure," Alex repeated slowly, putting an irritated emphasis on each individual word.

"Okay, okay, just thought I'd ask!" Desmond backed off from that subject and went down a different conversational pathway instead. "Who d'ya think he'll take after? In terms of looks and personality and stuff?"

"Probably you."

"How d'ya figure?"

Alex stopped rubbing and placed his hand on Desmond's chest. "We know he has a heart. And digestive organs. Like you."

Desmond clasped the hand with one of his own. "Oh, and based on his organs alone, you're extrapolating he'll automatically take after me? Don't forget he can do tentacle stuff, like you."

"Heh. Right."

Desmond rubbed his fingers over the wedding band he'd given Alex. "He'll probably be a little of both, then. A mixture of your awesomeness and mine."

 

* * *

 

Desmond had fallen asleep as the big spoon, arm draped around Alex, and he now awoke to a strange tenseness in the belly under his hand. "Uh... Alex? Bae?"

"What," Alex grunted through clenched teeth.

The rest of his body was tense as well, Desmond now noticed. "Are you... Is this a contraction?"

"Maybe." Alex's eyes twitched under closed lids, and he grunted again. "Ugh. Sure, why not."

Desmond bolted upright. "Holy crap, we gotta get dressed, get to Ragland-"

"Why."

"Uh, derr, because you're having your fucking **baby** and he is your fucking **doctor**!"

"Don't wanna go."

"Oh, come **on**." Desmond yanked the covers away.

Alex, still as naked as he had been last night, just rolled over and frowned up at him. "Oh no. Not the covers. Now I am cold," he said, putting devastator-level sarcasm into it.

Desmond flailed his hands in frustration. "Well what am I supposed to do to get you outta bed?! You weigh at least twice as much as me, so I can't pull you up!"

"Here's an idea: let's chill for a while. Labor takes a long time. Hours and hours."

"Oh." Desmond relaxed a bit. "Right. Heh. Wait, how do you know it'll take hours and hours? I mean, that's- Sure it takes hours and hours for humans, but for you..."

"A reasonable point," Alex acknowledged. "Still, I have a fairly good handle on what's going on inside me, and I- urm." His hips hitched upward and he grimaced for a half-second.

Desmond panicked and grabbed Alex's hand. "Okay, okay, relax, just breathe, breathe-"

Alex pulled his hand away. "Stop telling me to breathe."

"You **do** need to breathe, I know that much about your body."

"Don't need you to keep 'reminding' me!"

"Sorry!" Desmond squeaked. "I- I just wanna help."

"You can 'help' by shutting up and leaving me alone."

"Are you sure? I could bring Dr. Ragland here if you want."

"He'll be asleep. I don't need him. Not yet."

Desmond bit his tongue and got up from Alex's side. He paced around the room for a while, but then flew back to Alex when he heard him let out a low rumbling "Mmrph."

"What was that?"

"Don't fucking know," Alex grit out blandly.

"You don't know?! You said you had a handle on it!" Desmond said in a frantic screech.

The contraction, or whatever it was, passed, and Alex sank liquidly back into his pillow. "It's something shifting inside me."

Desmond's mind raced through the limited knowledge he had of childbirth. "Did your water break? Wait, shit- you probably don't have water- but, uh, are you, um, dilated? Do you need to push?" His eyes twitched groinward and he felt a little queasy.

Alex rolled his eyes. "No, Des. It's barely started half an hour ago."

"You sure you don't wanna see the doc-"

"No!" Alex roared, small tendrils flaring off his skin.

Desmond shrank back. "Hey, don't bite my head off! I know you're in pain, but-"

"Des, treating me as human is nice sometimes, but it's very **annoying** right now! I am not in any fucking pain! Just Leave. Me. Alone."

"Fine, fine! I'll leave you alone, sheesh." Desmond stood up. "Just tryna be a supportive husband is all."

He slipped on a t-shirt over his pajama pants and padded barefoot down the hall, trying to remember which suite was Dr. Ragland's residence. Once he found it, he knocked on the door, trying to keep it quiet, so as not to wake the adjoining suites, but still imbue it with a sense of urgency. Seconds stretched out into minutes before the sleepy doctor answered the door in a long nightshirt, sans glasses.

"Hey, Doc." Desmond gave a friendly jitter of a wave.

"Desmond," came the mumbled response. "You need something?"

"Um. I think the baby is coming?"

"Oh." Dr. Ragland rubbed his eyes. "Let's... let's get down to the med wing, then."

"Thing is, Alex doesn't wanna get out of bed."

"Oh. Well... how close are the contractions?"

"I, uh... I dunno."

Ragland stepped back a few feet and grabbed his glasses. "Is he even **having** contractions?" he asked when he returned to the doorway.

"I think so." Desmond shrugged. "I mean, he's having something happen. His body goes all, uh, contract-y. And he says something's shifting inside."

Ragland covered his mouth for a small yawn, then asked, "When did it start?"

"Ummm, half hour ago. And, uh, he's had like three contraction things, so I guess that makes them ten minutes apart?"

"Well, he's probably fine for now." Ragland yawned again. "I'm not worried about Alex, in any case- he's a tough one, you know- but the baby is another matter."

Desmond paled. "You think Deon might be in trouble?"

"If complications arise, it's possible. But don't worry too much." Ragland patted his shoulder. "Give it some time, Desmond. Just keep an eye on him for now."

"You sure? I mean, how'm I gonna know-"

"Track the contractions. If he's anything like a human in this respect, then birth isn't imminent until after they get, say, less than five minutes apart. We'll try to coax him to the med wing before that point. Meanwhile, I'll, uh, get showered, then come by and check how things are going."

"Right. Okay. Thanks." Desmond's stomach did a small flop as he paced back down the hall. _Holy crap. Deon's gonna come out of Alex. He's gonna come out **today**. My baby. Our baby. Our big gay hybrid baby. Holy crap._

The floor wobbled underfoot as he made his way back to their room, and his hands shook as he put on a pot of coffee. He stared at the little dripping droplets of brown, focusing on that instead of thinking about the mysterious machinations of Alex's gut.

When the coffee was ready, he poured a cup and went to stand on the balcony, feeling too restless to sit down. Brilliant purple-red-orange flooded out from the half-risen sun and washed over him as he sipped. _It's a beautiful day to be born._

There was barely a sound, if you didn't count the standard New York background noise of traffic, yelling, and a far-off siren. Desmond savored the relative quiet, knowing in his heart that a peace like this would be rare once Deon made his appearance and parenthood began.

 

* * *

 

At length Alex stumbled out into the hall, grumpiness engraved heavily upon his face. He hadn't bothered forming any clothes on other than his shorts.

Desmond raised his mug in greeting. "Hey, Alex. What's the status?"

Alex didn't answer, just began to pace from wall to wall.

Desmond put down the remainder of his coffee and went to pace beside him. "Hello?"

"Hello," Alex replied curtly.

"So, um... the baby?"

"What about him?"

"Duh, how's he coming along?"

Alex paused his pacing beside the bathroom door and leaned against the wall. A weird wave of jiggling undulated through the biomass of his belly from top to bottom.

"Another contraction? How close together are they?"

"Iihh- irregular," Alex said, breathing heavily.

Desmond noticed he seemed in a lot more distress now than before. "You doin' okay?"

"I'll... survive," Alex said on a quick exhalation, tossing his head forward. "It's just... annoying."

"Yeah, well, I've heard kids are annoying too sometimes, so we better get used to annoyingness," Desmond said with a smile.

Alex tossed himself onto the couch, glowering first at Desmond, then down at his belly. "Hurry up, you Little Shit."

"He can't control it, man. And he's already coming along faster than a human kid." Desmond patted Alex's head. "You gotta be patient."

Alex hissed and smacked Desmond's hand away with a thick tentacle.

"Fuck, man." Desmond rubbed his hand. "Excuse me for trying to comfort you!"

"You're the reason I'm in this mess! You and your stupid sex!"

"Well, **you** wanted to keep the baby!"

"I changed my mind!"

"It's a little too late now! He'll be born in a few hours!"

Alex gritted his teeth. "God, this sucks. It's... agh. Hurts."

"Really." Desmond's angry features softened considerably. "It actually **hurts**?"

Alex nodded jerkily. He wasn't all too familiar with what pain felt like, but this was certainly it. His body, usually so responsive to his wishes, was now rebelling in uncomfortable spasms. "God, just... just come out already!"

"Look, Dr. Ragland's gonna swing by in a little bit. Maybe he can- uh, whoops." Desmond facepalmed.

"What?!"

"Heh. I was gonna say he could give you something for the pain, but I'm not sure how well human meds would work on you."

"Rrrragh!" Alex growled. "I know something that'll work!" He lifted one hand up in the air, fingers transforming and merging into one long precise blade.

Desmond pulled back in fright. "Ahh! What the hell?!"

Alex gave him an amused grin. "Fuck labor. I'm getting this nonsense over with right now." He didn't even wait for a response before slicing into himself, pale skin giving way to the turmoil of writhing darkness beneath.

Desmond wanted to turn away from the sight, but his body was frozen, so he settled for saying "Holy fuck!"

"Chill, Des," Alex purred, now without a hint of unease. "I got this."

Desmond grabbed his wrist and vainly tried to restrain the blade-hand from going any deeper. "Careful, dammit! The baby-"

"I got this, all right?!" The blade became tentacles and more of them snaked out from Alex's sides to hold open the bloodless incision he'd made. The snarl of biomass that was his left hand dove in, probing this way and that way, until- "Here we go." He smiled.

Desmond watched, transfixed, mouth agape. Cradled in Alex's flowing hand as it pulled out was a miniature body, jet-black and shining with ooze. "Holy fuck. Baby has armor."

"Uh-hm." Alex nodded curtly. He gave one last gentle tug to free the baby's feet. Once they popped out, the gaping incision meshed itself back together, and in a matter of seconds, his torso was as chiseled and flawless as ever. The only evidence left that the pregnancy had happened was the strange newborn they couldn't stop staring at.

"Baby has **armor** ," Desmond repeated, eyes wide and watery. "He takes after **you**." He was too enthralled to think of anything more intelligent to say than these obvious observations.

"Lucky shit. I didn't start out with armorability."

"He's... he's not crying." Desmond gently prodded the impossibly calm child's chest. The slick exoskeletal plating gave slightly under his finger's soft pressure, but the child didn't make a sound.

Alex's smile became a grin. "Tough as nails, like his dad."

"Like both his dads." Desmond returned the grin, then faltered. "Wait, is he a he?" He warily nudged apart the tiny legs. "Uh... there's no anything down there, 'cause of the armor, so- Woah!" Desmond jerked back his hand in surprise; the armor was suddenly morphing away.

Alex grinned wider. "There's your answer. Just like I told you."

"Wow. Yeah. So... Deon." Desmond gingerly stroked the baby's little hand. It was covered in a slight layer of clear gunk, but he honestly didn't care. "Welcome to the world, Deon Mercer-Miles," he said softly.

"Is inside my body not part of the world?"

"Oh, can it, you know what I mean." Deon's fingers reflexively grasped Desmond's. "Wow. He's got a strong grip."

"That's to be expected." More tendrils came and busied themselves with wiping clean the baby's bald head. "The real surprise is somehow he didn't inherit my luscious locks," Alex said with a little disappointment. Then he looked up at footsteps approaching.

"Is everything all right in there?" came Dr. Ragland's voice as the door swung open. "I heard- Oh." He staggered against the doorframe. "Oh my."

"What's going on?" came another voice.

"See for yourself, Bill." Dr. Ragland beckoned him closer.

William poked his head in the door and immediately turned a pale shade of green when confronted with the scene before him: Alex, clad in nothing but shorts, reclined on the couch with a newborn in his arms, squirming and red. "Ah, you... you've already..." He had a very hard time getting any words out.

"Fast pregnancy, fast birth, it seems," Dr. Ragland reasoned. 

Desmond grinned. "Alex took a shortcut. Literally." He gestured a sharp vertical line down his torso.

"Oh my," Dr. Ragland said again.

"Don't know why I didn't think of that in the first place," Alex said. "Guess maybe I forgot my inhumanity."

"That'd be the first time you ever forgot **anything** ," Desmond said, and giggled. Deon's head turned toward the sound, eyes opening to show a heartstopping hazel.

The world was stillness for a long moment as the two fathers gazed into their child's face. "Little... Deon," Alex said, his voice oddly strained.

Dr. Ragland bent down to get a closer look. "I don't suppose there was a placenta? Umbilical cord?"

Alex shook his head silently, mesmerised by the twinkling facets of light in Deon's irises.

"Well. I, uh." Ragland scratched his head. "He seems healthy. And you seem... Well, not that I'd expected a long recovery period, but you seem already back to normal, Alex."

"What is 'normal'?" Alex asked. "A man-shaped virus holding a hybrid baby he incubated inside himself?"

Desmond laughed again. "I don't know about 'normal', but this is fucking **perfection** for me."

 

* * *

 

At first, Alex didn't allow anyone to pry Deon out of his arms. Eventually, though, Desmond coaxed him to hand the baby up to Dr. Ragland, who performed a cursory physical check-over. Deon made little fussy sounds during the exam, but he didn't have to put up with it for long, for soon Ragland finished and returned the baby to his birth father's embrace. "Hm, fascinating. He's nearly indistinguishable from a human."

A few greyish tendrils budded from Deon's hands and waved about uncertainly. "Except when he does that," Desmond laughed.

"Yes, well." Dr. Ragland shrugged. "There may be other differences, internally, but I'll defer checking for those right now. The important thing is he's healthy, so there's no need to traumatize him with a bunch of tests and scans. Adapting to life outside the womb is probably scary enough already."

Desmond was kneeling down and looking at Deon again, still absolutely amazed. "Oh, I don't think he's scared. He knows us, 'cause we're his parents." One of the tendrils found Desmond's face, traced over his nose and across his lips. "Yep, Daddy's got a scar there. I got scars other places too. But you," he carefully touched the baby's soft cheek, "you're brand-new. Mint condition. Perfect."

Alex pulled Desmond in for a quick forehead kiss. "You're perfect too. Scars and all."

Desmond smiled. Deon copied the expression, though his was toothless.

 

* * *

 

Not too long after Bill and Bradley had left, Janet came rushing into their suite. She broke down bawling the second she laid eyes on the newborn.

"Geesh, Mom." Desmond didn't know what else, if anything, to say.

"Oh, esto es real," she sobbed, "soy oficialmente una abuela, oh Desmond, mijito mío... " She continued in this manner, nearly incoherent from emotion, stroking Desmond's hair.

"That's your gramma, kid," Alex said to Deon, who was sucking contentedly on a thumb. "She may not look it right now, but she's a helluva badass in the field."

Janet cleared her throat with a tiny cough. "The field, the field, yes. Was just about to go out this morning, but then I heard Deon was born and had to come see." She smiled, her eyes watery. "He's beautiful."

"He's chubby and bald," Desmond said, "but yeah, 'beautiful' too." He'd pulled up a chair next to Alex, who was still reclined taking up all the space on the couch.

Janet patted Desmond's back. "Pues, no matter what he looks like now, with the genes of you two together, I'm sure he'll grow up to be a real lady-killer. Oh, or man-killer," she added with a laugh.

"We talking about attractiveness or deadliness here?" Alex asked, smirking.

Desmond looked pained. "Well, uh, whatever she meant- dating or assassinating- that's gonna be a long while down the road."

"They always grow up faster than you like," Janet said to him solemnly. Then she crouched down and touched Alex's shoulder. "How are you doing, mi yerno?"

Alex looked at her hand on his shoulder for a moment, then smiled up at her. "Bien, mi suegra. Muy **muy** bien."

 

* * *

 

The sound of typing intermingled with the sound of Deon sucking heartily from a bottle. (Desmond had mixed up a batch of infant formula using beef stock instead of water, and the kid had taken to it with no complaints.)

Desmond lifted his fingers from the keyboard, hesitant. "Do we wanna say anything else?" he asked Alex, who was reading over his shoulder.

"What else is there to say?"

Desmond thought a moment. "We could mention how he was born by C-section. Otherwise people might be confused, since you are a dude and all."

"Virus-dude," Alex corrected, adjusting his hold on Deon. "And who cares if they're confused?"

Desmond shrugged. "I just don't wanna get my inbox flooded with questions on where exactly he came out."

"...If they had questions, they should have raised them at the wedding."

"Maybe they refrained from asking out of politeness?"

"Then they can continue to refrain." A tendril arced out past Desmond, narrowly missing his ear, and hit Enter, blasting the email off into cyberspace.

Date: 04-04-2014  
To: hephaestus-mailing-list  
From: desmiles  
Subject: introducing the world's cutest carnivore

Watch out, Manhattan! He's eleven pounds nine ounces of hybrid badassery. Alex and Desmond are proud to announce the arrival of Deon Ellis Mercer-Miles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustration here: <http://atlantima.deviantart.com/art/ProtoCreed-Baby-530422472>


	23. No Matter Where We Came From

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for some homophobia and general jerkwadditude from blackwatch soldiers

ID: **********

PASSWORD: ****************

AUTHENTICATING.........     WELCOME, INITIATE

/browse files >  ssins://heph.outernet.ab/data/na/usa/manhat/userfiles/bragland/voice log 6-6-14.ogg

_(papers rustling) Suppose I ought to keep a record about... these developments... while the details are still relatively fresh in my mind. Shouldn't have put it off this long, even... (throat clearing) The, er, patient is... a friend of mine. Saved my life a couple times, even. Anyway, he came to me mid-October, pretty upset, complaining of fatigue, weakness, increased hunger. He stated there was 'something inside him' and it 'didn't feel right'. An MRI didn't shed any light on things. Possible causes considered were another sort of parasite or perhaps the natural decline of age. He left abruptly before we could begin to discuss treatment options or further diagnostics._

_A few days later, when I'd been just about to contact him for follow-up, he returned to my office and stated bluntly that he was pregnant. Well, heh, at first I didn't think it was possible, but upon closer review of the MRI, I located a small sac, about four centimeters long, in the lower abdominal area, discrete from his internal coils of generalized biomass-tissue. And a, ehm, fetal pole was visualized within the sac._

_He inquired as to the estimated delivery date, and shortly thereafter revealed that this pregnancy was not autogenous- as I'd erroneously assumed- but rather, that he and Desmond... They were- **are** \- in a relationship. Complete with intercourse. So... that's how I learned that _Nigraluciviridae _and_ Homo sapiens _have the capacity to interbreed. (a pause, then the sound of a folder opening) Although it's true Desmond isn't your run-of-the-mill_ Homo sapiens _. So that may have been a factor. Perhaps his rare genetic makeup.... (the folder closing again) But there's really no ethical or feasible way to test that hypothesis. And I'm acting as Alex's physician right now, not an investigator into all things Blacklight. So, back on topic._

_He expressed his desire to continue the pregnancy, though Desmond seemed ambivalent. That would change later, though. (There's a warmth growing in Ragland's voice.) They're quite proud fathers now, the both of them. Wonder if they'll have another someday.... Ah, anyway, I was shortly invited to move my operations to the building that houses the Manhattan Assassins, and was happy to do so. It's a bit smaller but far less gloomy than the morgue. Also better-equipped. And I do appreciate not being so alone as I work. It was here I made the acquaintance of a Paul Flowers, nurse practitioner, who coördinated with me on any obstetric details I wasn't familiar with, since Alex and Desmond desired to keep me as his primary caregiver._

_Gestation was calculated from the date of conception; that being September 15, 2013. (A cough.) I've, uh, since learned that human conception may sometimes lag a couple days behind the act of intercourse, but Alex is vehemently sure this pregnancy began developing on the exact day Desmond's sperm was introduced into his body. At any rate, I gave them my best guess of due date, but that guess turned out to be useless due to the fetus' superhuman rate of development. In the end, birth occurred on April 4, the child being delivered by means of an abdominal incision. (A pause.) With Alex himself the impromptu surgeon._

_The child, christened Deon Ellis, shares the physical characteristics of each father about equally; many of his organ systems are very human in form and function, but are composed of Blacklight tissue. However, when those cells are compared to samples from Alex, they're not quite identical; a variant strain. My detailed observations on the child's viral structure are recorded elsewhere._

_Also of note: From the time of birth he possessed the ability to form armor, which seems to activate as a reflex when he's startled. He was also observed forming tendrils even prenatally, and now, at two months, he's quite proficient with them. Time will tell if he develops any more of Alex's powers. For now, it's watch and wait, and- (a frantic door-knock and a different voice interrupts him)_

_Doc! Doc! Deon ate a bug! He ate a fuckin' stinkbug off the sidewalk! Alex is saying it's no big deal, but can you check him out and make sure he's okay?_

_(a contented sigh) Duty calls._

 

* * *

 

 

These days, being a Blackwatch soldier wasn't the action-packed life it'd used to be. The Infected were basically wiped out, with only sporadic Hives popping up. And reports of Zeus sightings were way **way** down in both quantity and witness reliability.

"You think he's even still kicking around out there somewhere?" Spc. Collins asked idly as their three-man helicopter puttered around the sky.

"I saw some wackjob tabloid article said he's ran off to South Dakota to be with his gay lover," PFC Jansen said, rolling his eyes.

"Gay lover?"

Jansen flicked a wad of chewing tobacco into his mouth. "A real kinky sicko, apparently. 'Cording to the article, he gets off on blood and death, so yeah, fell in love at first sight with the psycho freak monster. Fucking faggots, am I right?"

Collins forced a weak laugh and looked away. The metropolis below sparkled like an ocean of glass and metal. "You think this gay lover helped him off the island?"

Their superior officer, Sgt. Huber, finally put in his two cents. "You dipshits. Zeus can't have a goddamn 'lover', gay or not! It's a virus, a plague! It can't fall in love any more than a fucking cancer tumor or diseased hunk of snot can fall in love!"

Jansen shrugged. "Ey, I didn't say I **believed** the article."

Just then, Collins happened to spot a blur of black rushing over an apartment block below. "Holy shit, there he is!"

"Wait, seriously?" Huber snapped to attention and grabbed his binoculars. "My god. You're right!"

"Damn he's fast." Jansen whistled. "Where's he going in such a rush?"

Collins snorted. "Don't give a shit! I'm taking him out before he gets there!" He aimed down the sight of his anti-materiel rifle. "Keep us steady, Jansen!" he yelled to the pilot. "I wanna hit the bastard on my first shot, before he knows we're onto him!"

"Wait, hold your fire!"

At Huber's command, Collins took his finger off the trigger. "Sarge?" he asked, puzzled.

"Are you blind? There's a kid there!"

"What?"

"On its shoulders! A little kid!" Huber shoved binoculars into Collins' hand as Jansen swiveled the helo around for a better angle. "Can't be more than five years old!"

 

* * *

 

_"Can't be more than five years old!"_

"Two years!" Deon called into the wind. His shoulder-length hair streamed behind him as Alex dashed along.

“Don’t.”

“Huh?”

"Don't let on you can hear their communications." Alex hopped the roof edge and landed in the alley below with a soft grunt.

"Right." Deon nodded his understanding.

_"Zeus has a hostage, people, repeat: Zeus has a hostage!"_

At this, Alex straightened up and scowled into the narrow strip of night visible between buildings. "He's my **son** , you bastards!"

"Dad, you just said don't-"

"I know what I said! But they..." Growling, Alex balled his hands into fists. "They're always trying to paint me as the villain. I haven't done anything villainous in years, but still." He scanned the dark wine sky, searching for his target. Soon enough, the helicopter buzzed overhead. "Let's teach 'em a lesson, kid." He held out a hand and Deon latched on tightly, gray tendrils intertwining with black. Then Alex flung the grappling hook of his other hand up, up into the air-

-and it ratcheted into the side of the helicopter. "Shit-fuck!" Collins blurted, nearly losing hold of his rifle. "He's got us!"

Huber barely managed a "What?!" before the helo door was ripped away and he was face-to-face with cold eyes set in pale skin.

"This. Is. My. Son," Alex said, clear and stern, hugging Deon close with the arm that wasn't clinging on the hull.

All other sounds fell away. In a mind-blowing instant, Huber took in the ragged tangle of black hair, the jutting, rounded nose, the sharp eyes studying him like a caged guinea pig. This little boy was nearly the spitting image of Zeus. "You- you cloned-"

"I didn't clone shit," Alex cut in, ignoring the bullets Collins was fruitlessly firing at him. "He's got two parents, same as you."

Huber felt bilge rising in his throat. He wasn't sure which idea was more disgusting: the Blacklight virus assaulting some poor girl and knocking her up, or the sick kind of slut that would willingly sleep with such a monster.

"Hey kid!" Jansen called from the cockpit. "Your dad's a psycho terrorist!"

At this, Alex growled and leapt upon the pilot, consuming him in a flurry of virus-black and blood-red.

Collins threw down his handgun, grabbed his radio and started shouting into it. "Red Crown, priority one, Zeus is-"

Deon grabbed the radio and crushed it into a mess before flinging the fragments out.

Alex made a short scolding noise. "We're over Central Park. Don't litter."

Deon looked suitably ashamed. "Sorry, Dad."

Huber was completely flabbergasted, wracking his brain to think of the best safest way to lose Zeus and bring the boy back to HQ for questioning. There was an emergency parachute, but it was under the pilot seat. The pilot seat where Zeus was now sat with an audacious smile.

There was a two-second calm in the helicopter. 

...Then Collins steeled himself, took the combat knife from his waistband, and lunged. He only injured himself, though, his wrist twisting painfully as the knife was easily deflected by Alex's shield.

"Hah. Blackwatch still thinks bullets and knives can do anything against me?"

"Th- this was just our normal recon route," Collins stummered, nursing his sore wrist, "we weren't p-prepared for... you."

"Don't engage it in conversation!" Huber hissed. "Dumbass!"

Alex turned to him. "I'm not an 'it'," he growled.

"I ain't about to respect the pronouns of a goddamn **monster**!" the sergeant yelled back.

In response, three dozen thick tendrils shot out and grabbed all over him. He was immobilized in his seat.

Completely calm, Alex set the helicopter down on a skyscraper, then stepped out, carrying Huber with him to the edge. "You call me a killer. A monster. A terrorist. And perhaps I am these things." A cold wind rushed up from the street and blew back his hood. "But I'm also a lover. A husband. A father." He stared into the soldier's frozen eyes for two, three, four slow heartbeats. "And an Assassin!" he finished, shoving him off the edge of the roof.

Collins watched, wide-eyed. "Kid?" he whispered out the side of his mouth. "That guy's really your dad?"

Deon nodded, nonchalantly picking at specks of blood on the floor of the helicopter.

"Wh- where's your mom?" He dreaded what the answer to that question could be. _Greene's supposed to be dead, right? There's not another girl one of him, is there? Or did he... with a human?_

"Nowhere."

"She's nowhere? You mean-" He silenced himself when Alex slid near the helo again.

"Think we can let this one off with a warning?" he asked, addressing Deon but looking straight at Collins.

Deon looked at Collins as well. "Are you a Templar?" he asked, innocently, like he was inquiring on nothing more serious than the soldier's favorite color.

"Am I a what?"

"Fine, he lives. For now." Alex pulled his hood back over his head, using a hand instead of a tendril for a change.

Collins caught a gleam of light briefly flickering. "Holy sh- is that a wedding ring?"

Alex brought his hand in front of his face, smiling softly at the emblem of his and Desmond's bond. "Didn't you hear me say 'husband'?"

"I..." Collins looked from Alex to Deon and back. "Is that kid... like you?"

"In some ways." Alex shrugged. "Other ways he's more like Desmond."

"Who is Desmond?"

"That's Daddy," Deon piped up, swinging his legs.

"'Daddy'? Wait, you- you don't mean it's true?"

"Nothing is true," Deon answered.

Collins didn't understand or even register this remark. "Oh my god. It's true! Zeus is g-"

Alex cut him off with a sharp hand gesture. "Enough Q-and-A! Shouldn't you be running the hell away from me?"

"You're really gay!" Collins sounded positively thrilled at being privy to this info.

"Look, I'm married to a gay man. It doesn't follow that I, myself, am **necessarily** gay," Alex said testily, teeth bared. "Deon, let's go home."

Deon took his hand again and they leapt together off the side of the building.

Collins leaned over the side and called out, "But wait- then where'd the **kid** come from?!"

He received no answer.

The question would haunt him for a long, long while.

 

* * *

 

"Hope Desmond's not mad I killed two people my first time taking you out on the town," Alex said some ten minutes later. They were sat watching the sun rise in the boughs of a grand elm. (This had been Deon's idea, and Alex had to admit it was rather nice. The tree had a certain je ne sais quoi that manmade structures somehow lacked.) "And I shouldn't have gotten so chatty with Collins."

Deon seemed not to notice Alex's regrets, for he was too busy looking thoughtful at every sparkling drop of dew on the foliage and every fading star in the lightening sky.

"Ah well. Who cares if Blackwatch knows about my relationship with Desmond." Alex shrugged and gave Deon a pat on the back. "Nice view, huh? S'a beautiful world we live in. Even if there are some jerkass people in it."

The back-pat stirred Deon from his silent meditation, and he looked up to Alex. "Hey Dad? Where **did** I come from?"

"Here." Alex pointed to his stomach. (Well, his abdomen, since he didn't have a 'stomach'.)

Deon looked for a few moments, then said, "I don't get it."

Alex inhaled deeply, as if taking a long drag from a fine cigar. "You came from inside me."

"Why was I inside you?"

"Because Desmond ejaculated into me."

"E-jac-u-la-ted." Deon's eyebrows moved slowly up and then down again. "You mean I came from... inside Daddy?"

Alex smirked. "Partly him, partly me, yes."

"How's that work?"

"It's biology, kid, you should already know this stuff."

"I..." Deon laid a hand on his head, as if it ached. "I do. But it's... it's weird." He looked up at Alex. "My mind knows stuff, but I like it better if you or Daddy tell me."

Alex hummed and nodded. He'd thought, perhaps, that his offspring would inherit all the knowledge he'd absorbed over the years from consuming. But no, Deon's brain didn't work that way. And that was probably for the best.

Deon stood up and looked toward the den. "Let's go home so I can ask Daddy. He's better at talking."

Alex snorted. "He sure does enough of it, huh?"

 

* * *

 

"Hey!"

Desmond was just coming out of the bathroom and was only a tiny bit startled to see Deon was standing there in the hall. He did that a lot; just waited outside doors, infinitely patient, when he wanted to talk to someone on the other side. "Hey yourself, kiddo. Need something?"

"Dad said I came from inside you? But also inside him? I don't get it. So I'm asking you now."

"Well... He was pregnant with you. From me."

"He... from you... I don't get it."

Desmond scratched his head. "Well, uh. Me and your dad, we... There's a thing grown-ups do that makes babies sometimes." _Jesus, I really am zero percent prepared for this talk._ "And we did that thing."

"Thing," Deon repeated. "What kinda thing?"

"Um, well... part of Daddy's body went inside Dad's body, and uh, left some special cells inside. You know 'cells', right? Okay, so these cells started turning into a baby. And that baby was you, kiddo." He booped Deon's nose.

Deon was thoroughly confused. "But I'm cells **now**. I can't be cells before I was born."

"Oh, sure you can. Just a teeny tiny number of 'em. You wanna see?" Desmond went over to the laptop and brought up a folder saved in a special location in his Outernet cloud storage. "This is mostly baby photos, but I think the ultrasounds and stuff're in here too. Yeah, here we go." He double-clicked a file near the top of the list. "That's Dad's insides, the inside of his body. And this," he circled the cursor around one spot in particular, "this squiggly little line? That's you."

"I was that small? No way."

"Yeah way." Desmond smoothed down Deon's flyaway hair. "You grew big real fast though." He slideshowed through the dozen sonogram images they had on file, then a few photos of Alex, rare occasions where he'd deigned to let someone catch him on camera.

Deon stood on tiptoe to see the screen better.

"See that big ol' bump?" Desmond pointed out Alex's abdomen in the currently displaying photo. "You're in there. It's called pregnancy. That's how babies are made."

"Really?"

"Yeah, babies grow inside their mo- er, inside one of their parents."

"From special cells. Ejaculated cells?"

"Um, yeah." Desmond wondered where the hell Deon had picked up **that** word. "Ummmm... Hey, didja know a standard human kid takes forty weeks to be ready for the outside world? You only took, like, twenty-nine."

Deon raised a hand up and tendrilized it. "Standard human can't do this."

Desmond smiled. "Nope, we sure can't. You're a real special guy." Deon reflected the smile back at him. It wasn't quite genuine, Desmond could tell, but a mimicry, a mask over his true thoughts. He pushed the laptop aside and focused more on his son. "Hey, you okay?"

Deon's smile faltered and vanished. He stared down at his tendrilized hand. "People hate Dad 'cause he's not human."

Desmond thought a moment on how to respond best. "Some people, yeah. Not our friends, though. Our friends know he's a nice guy."

Deon looked into Desmond's eyes, his face so open and innocent. "Why can't everyone be our friends?"

"Well... some people are just mean. Or have a wrong idea about how things should be. Some people want everyone to be like them, and they get freaked out if there's somebody different." Desmond was kind of just pulling words out of his ass, but he thought it sounded decent enough. "Like, some people would hate me 'cause I'm gay."

"What's 'gay'?"

 _What the? He knows 'ejaculated' but not 'gay'?_ "It means I'm a man who likes other men." He glanced up at the screen, which right now was showing a photo of their wedding kiss. "One man most of all," he added softly.

Deon furrowed his brows. "I like you and Dad. Am I gay?"

Desmond chuckled. "That's a different kind of 'like'. I mean, maybe you are gay, but loving your parents has nothing to do with whether you are or not."

"Is 'love' the same as 'like'?"

A deeper voice answered him. "'Love' is a very intense 'like'." They both looked up to see Alex, who'd been sneakily listening in on the conversation for a while. "It's a special connection with someone. A connection that you never want to break," he continued, coming over to wrap Desmond in a casual, one-armed hug. "It can start out as 'like', but over time... it grows, and consumes you."

"Consumes you in a good way," Desmond laughed.

"Yes," Alex agreed. "It gives you life, rather than taking it away." He leaned over Desmond's chair and kissed him sweetly.

Desmond hugged him into a closer kiss. Deon watched, vaguely interested, for a minute before wandering off to play with his toys.

 

* * *

 

Used to be whenever Alex closed his eyes, he'd drown in the memories of a thousand innocent men. He'd see their terrified faces, hear their dying screams.... But these days when he was alone with his thoughts, it was more often that he saw one man's perpetual smile and one child's twinkling eyes. He heard strong heartbeats and gentle words of love.

These happier things were his life now. Sure, there were still nights he felt subhuman and despicable, but those nights were fewer, and more bearable, since he was surrounded by the warmth and smells of his family.

His wonderful, irreplicable family.

#  _fin_

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Daddy's Little Disaster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6722254) by [TheWritingMustache](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWritingMustache/pseuds/TheWritingMustache)




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